PS 
2532 

B7 
1848 


MODERN     STANDARD     DRAMA. 

No.  LIX. 


B_  R   U    T    U    S    ; 


OR, 


THE  FALL  OF  TARQUTN. 


IN    FIVE    ACTS. 


BY    JOHN    HOWARD    PAYNE. 


WITH    THE    STAGE    BUSINESS,    CAST    OF    CHARACTERS 
COSTUMES,  RELATIVE  POSITIONS,  ETC. 


NEW-YORK: 
WM.  TAYLOR  £  CO. 

(  S  .     FRENCH.      C!  K  X  LC   fl  A  L      AGENT,) 

151   NASSAU-STHKKT.  c«ju\::ii  of  opuy?*;. 


6? 


EDITORIAL    INTRODUCTION. 

JOHN  HOWARD  PAYNE,  the  author  of  "Brutus,"  is  an  Ameri 
can  by  birth.  He  was  born  in  New  York  on  the  9th  June,  1794. 
At  the  early  age  of  fifteen  years,  he  was  induced  by  circumstan 
ces  to  try  his  fortune  on  the  stage,  urged,  doubtless,  by  the  ex 
traordinary  success  which  had  marked  the  career  of  the  infant 
Roscius,  Master  William  Henry  West  Betty.  Young  Payne 
made  his  first  appearance  at  the  Park  theatre,  in  the  character 
of  Young  Norval,  and  at  once  assumed  a  position  in  public  es 
timation  rarely  achieved  by  actors  who  have  spent  years  of  toil 
in  acquiring  a  knowledge  of  the  histrionic  art.  The  fame  of  the 
youthful  debutant  procured  for  him  offers  of  engagements  in 
Philadelphia,  Baltimore,  Richmond,  and  Boston,  and  during  two 
or  three  subsequent  years  Mr.  Payne  travelled  round  the  then 
usual  circle  of  theatrical  engagements,  as  a  "  star"  of  the  first 
magnitude,  as  "  the  young  American  Roscius."  The  critical 
writers  of  the  day  awarded  to  him  merit  very  little  inferior  to 
that  possessed  by  his  English  contemporary,  Master  Betty.  Mr. 
Payne  was  at  length  induced  to  visit  London,  where  he  appear 
ed  with  tolerable  success.  He  subsequently  visited  the  pro 
vinces,  with  equal  approbation.  But  the  novelty  of  the  infant 
school  of  prodigies  had  departed,  and  Mr.  Payne,  like  his  pre 
decessor,  did  not  appear  to  mature  in  talent,  as  he  advanced  in 
age.  His  theatrical  experience,  however,  was  turned  to  ac 
count  :  Mr.  Payne  devoted  himself  to  literary  pursuits,  and 
commenced  dramatic  author.  The  following  list  of  his  produc 
tions,  attest  the  fertility  of  his  genius : — Oswali  of  Athens ; 
Richelieu,  or  a  Broken  Heart;  Charles  the  Second;  Procrasti 
nation  ;  Married  ard  Single  ;  Plots  at  Home  ;  Woman's  Re 
venge  ;  All  for  the  Best ;  Brutus,  or,  the  Fall  of  Tarquin  ;  Vir 
ginia,  or  Patrician  Perfidy. — DRAMAS  :  Spanish  Husband  ; 
Therese,  or  the  Orphan  of  Geneva ;  Norah,  the  Girl  of  Erin ; 


IV  EDITORIAL    INTRODUCTION. 

Adeline,  or  Seduction  ;  The  Two  Galley  Slaves  ;  The  Rival 
Monarchs ;  Paoli ;  Solitary  of  Mount  Savage ;  Ali  Pacha  ; 
The  Inseparables  ;  The  Guilty  Mother  ;  Man  of  the  Black 
Forest ;  Madame  de  Berri ;  The  Festival  of  St.  Mark's  ;  The 
Bridge  of  Kehl ;  the  Judge  and  the  Attorney  ;  The  Mill  of  the 
Lake  ;  Mazeppa  ;  Rovido,  the  Neapolitan  :  The  Italian  Bride. 
—OPERAS  :  Clari,  the  Maid  of  Milan  ;  The  White  Maid  ;  The 
Tyrolese  Veasan  ;  Visilendenes  ;  England's  Old  Days. — 
FARCES:  Tricondeau ;  The  Post  Chaise;  'Twas  1;  Mrs. 
Smith;  Love  in  Humble  Life;  The  Lancers;  Grand  Papa; 
Peter  Smirk  ;  Not  Invited  ;  Romulus,  a  tragedy.  Many  of 
these  dramas  retain  permanent  possession  of  the  stage.  They 
are  all  cha-^acterized  by  the  admirable  knowledge  of  dramatic 
effect,  acquired  by  the  author  during  his  professional  life.  Such 
knowledge  appears  to  be  imperative  to  the  dramatist,  mechani 
cal  as  it  may  seem  to  some.  It  is  the  setting  of  the  jewel,  with 
out  which  the  brightest  gems  of  dramatic  poetry  are  but  dim 
and  ineffective. 

In  the  preface  to  this  play,  Mr.  Payne  remarks  : — 

"Seven  plays  upon  the  subject  of  Brutus  are  before  the  public. 
Only  two  have  been  thought  capable  of  representation,  and  those  two 
did  not  long  retain  possession  of  the  stage.  In  the  present  play  I 
have  had  no  hesitation  in  adopting  the  conception  and  language  of  my 
predecessors,  wherever  they  seemed  likely  to  strengthen  the  plan 
which  I  had  prescribed.  This  has  been  so  done  as  to  allow  of  no 
injury  to  personal  feelings  or  private  properly.  Such  oblig-itions,  to 
be  culpable,  must  be  secret ;  but  it  may  be  observed,  that  no  assist 
ance  of  other  writers  can  be  available  without  an  effort  almost,  if  not 
altogether,  as  laborious  as  original  composition." 

That  Mr.  Payne  has  skilfully  adapted  the  materials  thus 
furnished  him  by  the  authors,  to  whom  he  acknowledges  his  in 
debtedness,  will  not  be  denied.  He  has  constructed  from  these 
sources  a  tragedy,  that,  from  its  dramatic  situations,  interesting 
incidents,  and  striking  scenic  effects,  promises  to  keep  its  place 
among  the  most  popular  stock  pieces  of  the  modern  drama. 

The  main  defect  in  this  tragedy  is,  that  the  whole  interest  ia 
concentrated  in  one  character.  Brutus  is  made  to  so  completely 
absorb  the  attention,  as  to  exclude  any  participation  of  the  in 
terest  of  the  spectator  in  any  of  the  subordinate  characters. 
But  this  defect  is  not  chargeable  upon  the  author.  The  play 


EDITORIAL    INTRODUCTION.  V 

was  written  for  the  elder  Kean,  when  it  was  for  the  interest  of 
the  theatre  that  the  great  tragedian  should  be  the  cynosure  of 
attraction  in  every  new  piece,  in  which  his  extraordinary  ta 
lents  were  to  be  called  into  requisition.  Indeed,  Kean  himself 
had  established  this  rule  of  exclusive  appropriation.  To  an  au 
thor,  this  writing  up  to  the  peculiar  talents  and  sole  glorification 
of  a  particular  actor,  is  a  severe  task. 

Few  dramatic  writers  have  succeeded  in  producing  a  stand 
ard  play,  that  has  survived  the  theatrical  lives  of  their  repre 
sentatives.  Mr.  Payne  has  been  more  fortunate  than  many  of 
his  predecessors  and  contemporaries  ;  for  Brutus  is  still  a  favour 
ite  performance,  in  the  hands  of  an  adequate  personator. 

The  inimitable  acting  of  Kean  in  this  Tragedy,  will  not  readi 
ly  be  forgotten  by  those  who  witnessed  his  performance,  on  its 
first  production  at  Drury  Lane.  The  great  actor  was  then  in 
the  very  zenith  of  his  fame.  The  part  had  been  carefully  fitted 
to  his  varied  and  peculiar  powers,  and  he  appeared  to  have 
thrown  the  whole  force  of  his  genius  both  into  the  conception 
and  embodiment  of  the  character  ;  and  his  success  in  the  deline- 
ational  most  surpassed  any  of  his  previous  efforts,  great  as  they 
were.  The  delivery  of  the  famous  curse,  in  the  third  act,  was 
one  of  those  electric  and  brilliant  specimens  of  his  transcendant 
genius,  which  have  never  been  surpassed  by  any  of  his  con 
temporaries  or  successors.  Nor  was  he  less  triumphant  in  the 
closing  scene,  where  he  condemns  his  son.  It  was  another  tri 
umph  of  art,  that  was  above  criticism,  and  defied  competition. 

Brutus  has  found  able  representatives  in  this  country,  in  the 
persons  of  Booth  and  Forrest,  and  is  still  occasionally  played  by 
these  great  actors,  to  the  satisfaction  of  admiring  audiences. 

We  subjoin  to  our  remarks  the  original  truly  classical  prologue, 
written  for  *his  play  by  the  Rev.  George  Croly.  H. 


PROLOGUE , 
Written  by  a  FRIEND,  Spoken  by  MR.  H.  KEMBLE. 


TIME  rushes  o'er  us ;  thick  as  evening  clouds, 
Ages  roll  back  : — what  calls  them  from  their  shrouds  T 
What  in  full  vision  brings  their  good  and  great, 
The  men  whose  virtues  make  the  nation's  fate, 
The  far,  forgotten  stars  of  humankind  ? 
The  STAGE — the  mighty  telescope  of  mind  '. 
If  later,  luckless  arts  that  stage  profane, 
The  actor  pleads — not  guilty  of  the  stain  : 
He,  but  the  shadow  flung  on  fashion's  tide — 
Yours,  the  high  will  that  all  its  waves  must  guide : 
Your  voice  alone,  the  great  reform  secures, 
His,  but  the  passing  hour — the  age  is  yours. 

Our  pledge  is  kept.     Here  yet,  no  chargers  wheel, 
No  foreign  slaves  on  ropes  or  scaffolds  reel, 
No  gallick  amnzons,  half  naked,  climb 
From  pit  to  gallery — the  low  sublime  ! 
In  Shakspeare's  halls,  shall  dogs  and  bears  engage  7 
Where  brutes  are  actors,  be  a  booth  the  stage  ! 
And  we  shall  triumph  yet.     The  cloud  has  hung 
Darkly  above — but  day  shall  spring — has  sprung — 
The  tempest  has  but  swept,  not  shook  the  shrine  ; 
No  lamp  that  genius  lit  has  ceased  to  shine  1 
Still  lives  its  sanctity.     Around  the  spot 
Hover  high  spirits — shapes  of  burning  thought — 
Viewless — but  call  them,  on  the  dazzled  eye 
Descends  their  pomp  of  immortality  : 
Here,  at  your  voice,  Rowe,  Otway,  Southern,  come. 
Flashing  like  meteors  through  the  age's  gloom. 
Perpetual  fare — king  of  th'  immortal  band, 
Sits  SHAKSPEARK  crowned.     He  lifts  the  golden  wand, 
And  all  obey ; — the  visions  of  the  past 
Rise  as  they  lived — soft,  splendid,  regal,  vast. 
Then  Ariel  harps  along  the  enchanted  wave, 
Then  the  Weird  sisters  thunder  i:i  their  cave — 
The  spell  is  wound.     Then  shows  his  mightier  art 
The  Moor's  lost  soul ;  the  hell  of  Richard's  heart  ; 
And  stamps,  in  fiery  warning  to  all  time, 
The  deep  damnation  of  a  tyrant's  crime. 

To-night  we  take  our  lesson  from  the  tomb : 
'Tia  thy  snd  cenotaph,  colossal  Rome  ! 


How  is  thy  helmet  cleft,  thy  banner  low, 
Ashes  and  dust  are  all  thy  glory  now  ! 
While  o'er  thy  wreck,  a  host  of  monks  and  slaves, 
Totter  to  "  seek  dishonourable  graves." 
The  stoiy  is  of  Brutus, — in  that  name 
Towered  to  the  sun  her  eagle's  wing  of  flame  ! 
When  sank  her  liberty,  that  name  of  power 
Poured  hallowed  splendours  round  its  dying  hour. 
The  lesson  lived  for  man — that  heavenward  blaze 
Fixed  on  the  pile  the  world's  eternal  gaze. 

Unrivalled  England !  to  such  memories  thou, 
This  hour  dost  owe  the  laurel  on  thy  brow ; 
Those  fixed,  when  earth  was  like  a  grave,  thy  tread, 
Prophet  and  warrior !  'twixt  the  quick  and  dead — 
Those  bade  the  war  for  man — those  won  the  name 
That  crowns  thee — famed  above  all  Roman  fame. 

Now,  to  our  scene — we  feel  no  idle  fear, 
Sure  of  the  hearts,  the  British  justice  here ; 
If  we  deserve  it,  sure  of  your  applause — 
Then,  hear  for  Rome,  for  England,  for  "  our  cause !" 


CAST     OF     CHARACTERS. 

Drury  Lane,  1818.  Arch  St.,  Phil,  1847. 

Brutut Mr.  Keao.  Mr.  C.  Pitt. 

Titus "     1).  Fisher.  "    Marsh. 

Seztus  Tarquia "     H.  Kemble.  "     Gulla-jher. 

Aruns "     J'enley.  "    T.  Joim>tone. 

Claudius "     Coveney.  "    J.  Dunn. 

Collatinui "     Bengough.  ''     Henkins. 

Valerius "     Holland.  "     Ellsler. 

Lucretius "     Powell.  "     Mears. 

Horatius "     Yarnold.  "     Worrell. 

Celius "     Carr.  "    Henry. 

Flavins  Corunna "    Phillips.  "    Bradford. 

Centurion  "     Ley.  "     Thompson. 

First  Plebeian "     Marshall.  "     W.  Wood. 

Second  Plebeian "     Ebsworth.  "     H.Davis. 

Third  Plebeian "     Smith.  "    Colladine. 

Fourth  Plebeian "    Buxton.  "    Antony. 

Fifth  Plebeian "     Clark. 

Tullia Mrs.  Glover.  Miss  Wood. 

Tarquinia "     W.  West.  Mrs.  Russell. 

Lucrctia "     Robinson.  Miss  J.  Hill. 

Lavinia Miss  Ivers.  "     Morgan. 

Pricstest.  ...                                               ..  Mrs.  Brereton.  "    Davis. 


COSTUMES. 

LUCIUS  JUNTOS. — Moreen-coloured  shirt,  black  velvet  belt,  flesh  dress  complete, 
and  black  sandals.  Second  drett :  Crimson  shirt,  Homan  cuirass,  and  lambara- 
kins  of  silver  leather,  helmet,  and  red  sandals.  Third  dress :  Cream-coloured 
toga,  white  shirt,  and  black  sandals. 

TITUS. — White  shirt,  scarlet  mantle  trimmed  with  black  velvet,  flesh  dress  com 
plete,  black  sandals,  and  white  ribbon  for  the  head. 

SEXTUS  TARQUIN.— Roman  cuirass  and  lambarakins  of  gold,  helmet,  white 
shirt,  red  sandals,  flesh  dress  complete,  and  scarlet  mantle. 

ARUNS. — Buff  and  silver  Roman  cuirass,  white  shirt,  red  sandals,  scarlet  mantle, 
and  flesh  dress  complete. 

CLAUDIUS. — Blue  and  silver  Roman  cuirass,  white  shirt,  flesh  dress  complete,  red 
sandals,  and  scarlet  mantle. 

COLLATINUS. — Roman  scarlet  and  buff  cuirass  and  lambarakins,  red  sandals, 
crimson  mantle,  and  flesh  dress  complete.  Seconddress:  toga,  crenm-coloured. 

VALERIUS. — White  shirt,  cream-coloured  toga,  russet  sandals,  and  flesh  dress 
complete. 

LUCRETIUS.— Ibid. 

HORATIUS. — White  shirt,  crimson  mantle,  russet  sandals,  and  flesh  dress  com 
plete. 

CELIUS. — Brown  shirt,  sandals,  and  fle.sh  dress  complete. 

FLAVIUS  CORUNNA.— Green  shirt,  Roman  cuirass,  sandals,  and  flesh  dress 
complete. 

CENTURION. — Blue  and  scarlet  cuirass  and  lambarakins,  one  scarlet  shoulder- 
piece,  russet  sandals,  and  flesh  dress  complete. 

MESSENGER.— Ibid. 

FIRST  ROMAN. — Brown  shirt  and  cap,  sandals,  and  flesh  dress  complete. 

SECOND  ROMAN.— Ibid. 

THIRD  ROMAN.— Ibid. 

TULLIA — White  train  dress,  scarlet  toga,  gold  tiarii,  tied  with  long  white  ribbon. 

TARQUINIA. — White  train  dress,  puce-coloured  toga,  and  gold  tiara,  tied  with  long 
white  ribbon. 

LUCRET1A. — White  train  dress,  white  toga,  and  white  satin  tiara,  tied  with  long 
white  ribbon. 

PRIESTESS.— All  white. 

VESTAL. — White  train  dress,  with  chemesette  boddice,  and  white  ribbon  through 
the  hair. 

LAVINMA. — White  train  dress  trimmed  with  blue,  blue  toga,  and  white  ribbon 
through  the  hair. 


BRUTUS. 


ACT     I. 

SCENE  I. — A  Street  in  Rome. 
Enter  VALERIUS  and  LUCRETIUS,  R. 

Val.  Words  are  too  feeble  to  express  the  horror 
With  -which  my  soul  revolts  against  this  Tarquin. 
By  poison  he  obtained  his  brother's  wife, 
Then,  by  a  baser  murder,  grasped  the  crown  ! 
These  eyes  beheld  that  aged  monarch,  thrown 
Down  from  the  senate-house — his  feeble  limbs 
Bruised  by  the  pavement — his  time-honoured  locks,— 
Which  from  the  very  robber  would  have  gained 
Respect  and  veneration — bathed  in  blood  ! 
AVith  difficulty  raised,  and  tottering  homeward, 
The  murderers  followed — struck  him — and  he  died  ! 

Luc.  Inexpiable  crime  ! 

Val.  High  in  her  regal  chariot,  Tullia  came — 
The  corpse  lay  in  the  street.      The  charioteer 
Turned  back  the  reins  in  horror.     '  On,  slave,  on  ! 
'  Shall  dead  men  stop  my  passage  to  a  throne  ?' 
Exclaimed  the  parricide.      The  gore  was  dashed 
From  the  hot  wheels  up  to  her  diadem  ! 

Luc.  And  Hea.ven's  avenging  lightnings  were  withheld 
Here  rules  this  Tullia,  while  the  king,  her  husband, 
Wastes  our  best  blood  in  giddy,  guilty  war  ! 
Spirit  of  Marcus  Junius ! — Would  the  gods 
Deign  to  diffuse  thy  daring  through  the  land, 
Rome  from  her  trance  with  giant  spirit  would  start, 
Dash  off  her  fetters,  and  amaze  the  world  ! 

Val.  Junius,  didst  say  1     Oh  !  tyranny  long  since 
Had  sunk — chained — buried  in  its  native  hell — 
But  Tarquin,  trembling  at  his  virtues,  murdered 
Him  and  his  elder  son.     The  younger,  Lucius, 


10  BRUTUS.  [AcT  I 

Then  on  his  travels,  'scaped  the  tyrant's  sword, 
But  lost  his  reason  at  their  fearful  fall. 

Luc.  Ay,  the  same  Lucius,  who  now  dwells  with  Tar- 

quin, 

The  jest,  the  fool,  the  langhing-stock  o'  th'  court, 
Whom  the  young  princes  always  carry  with  'em 
To  be  the  butt  of  their  unfeeling  mirth. 

Vol.  Hold !  I  hear  steps.     Great  things  may  yet  be 

done, 
tf  we  are  men,  and  faithful  to  our  country.    [Exeunt,  L. 

SCENE  II. —  The  Camp  before  Ardea. 
Enter  CLAUDIUS  and  ARUNS,  laughing,  L.  s.  E. 

Aruns.  There  is  no  doctor  for  the  spleen  like  Lucius. 
What  precious  scenes  of  folly  did  he  act 
When,  lately,  through  the  glorious  scenes  of  Greece, 
He  went  with  us  to  Delphi !     But,  behold, 
Where,  full  of  business,  his  wise  worship  comes. 

Enter  Lucius  JUNIUS,  L. 

Claud.  Whither  so  fast,  good  Junius,  tell  us  whither  ? 

Luc.  To  Rome,  to  Rome — the  queen  demands  my  pre 
sence. 

The  state  needs  aid,  and  I  am  called  to  court.  [  They  laugh. 
Am  I  a  fool  ?     If  so,  you  cannot  say 
I'm  the  first  fool  graced  by  a  monarch's  favour. 

Aruns.  Why,  Junius,  travel  has  improved  thy  wit : 
Thou  speakest  shrewdly. 

Luc.  Do  I  so,  my  lord  1 
I'm  always  glad  when  you  and  I  agree ; 
You  have  just  such  a  wit  as  I  should  choose. 
Would  I  could  purchase  such  !  though  it  might  split 
My  head,  as  confined  air  does — water  bubbles  ! 

Claud.    How   say   you  ?     Purchase  1     Prithee,  what 
would'st  give  1 

Luc.  What  would  I  give  ? — ten  acres  of  my  land. 

Aruns.  Thy  land  !     Where  lies  it  ? 

Luc.  Ask  the  king,  my  cousin  : 
He  knows  full  well.     I  thank  him,  he's  my  steward, 
And  takes  the  trouble  off  my  hands. 

Claud.  Who  told  thee  so  1 

Luc.  The  king  himself.     Now  twenty  years  are  past, 


SfcF.M-:  H.)  BRUTUS.  H 

Or  more, — since  he  sent  for  me  from  my  farm. 
'  Kinsman,'  said  he,  with  a  kind,  gracious  smile, 
'For  the  black  crime  of  treason  which  was  charged 
'Against  thy  father  and  thy  elder  brother, 
'  Their  lives  have  paid  :  for  thee,  as  I  love  mercy, 
'  Live  and  be  happy  :  simple  is  thy  mind' — 

Arum.  True,  kinsman,  true — i'faith,  'tis  wondrous  sim 
ple. 

Luc.  '  And  that  simplicity  will  be  a  pledge 
'  That  thou  wilt  never  plot  against  thy  sovereign.' 

Claud.  Indeed,  for  that  I'll  be  your  bondsman,  Junius. 

Luc.  '  Live  in  my  house,  companion  of  my  children. 
'  As  for  thy  land,  to  ease  thee  of  all  care, 
'  I'll  take  it  for  thy  use  ;  all  that  I  ask 
'  Of  thee,  is  gratitude.' 

Aruns.  And  art  thou  not 
Grateful  for  goodness  so  unmerited? 

Luc.  Am  1  not  ?     Never,  by  the  holy  gods, 
Will  I  forget  it  !      'Tis  my  constant  pray'r 
To  Heaven,  that  I  may  one  day  have  the  pow'r 
To  pay  the  debt  1  owe  him.     But  stay — stay — 
1  brought  a  message  to  you  from  the  king. 

Aruns.  Thank  the   gods,  then,  for  thy  good  memory, 
fool! 

Luc.  The  King,  your  father,  sends  for  you  to  council, 
Where  he  debates  how  best  to  conquer  Ardea. 
Shall  I  before,  and  tell  him  ye  are  coming  ? 

Claud.  Ay,  or  behind,  or  with  us,  or  stay  here — 
As  thy  wits  prompt — as  suits  thy  lofty  pleasure. 

[Exeunt  Aruns  and  Claudius,  laughing,  R. 

Luc.  [Alone.\  Yet,  'tis  not  that  which  ruffles  me — tha 

gibes 

And  scornful  mockeries  of  ill-governed  youth — 
Or  flouts  of  dastard  sycophants  and  jesters — 
Reptiles,  who  lay  their  bellies  on  the  dust 
Before  the  frown  of  majesty  ! — All  this 
I  but  expect,  nor  grudge  to  bear;  the  face 
I  carry,  courts  it !      Son  of  Marcus  Junius  ! 
When  will  the  tedious  gods  permit  thy  soul 
To  walk  abroad  in  her  own  majesty, 
And  throw  this  vizor  of  thy  madness  from  thee, 
To  avenge  my  father's  and  my  brother's  murder? 


12  BRUTUS.  [ACT  i. 

(And  sweet,  I  must  confess,  would  be  the  draught !) 

Had  this  been  all,  a  thousand  opportunities 

I've  had  to  strike  the  blow — and  my  own  life 

I  had  not  valued  as  a  rush. — But  still — 

There's  something  nobler  to  be  done ! — My  soul, 

Enjoy  the  strong  conception  !     Oh  !   'tis  glorious 

To  free  a  gi'oariing  country — 

To  see  Revenge 

Spring  like  a  lion  from  the  den,  and  tear 

These  hunters  of  mankind  !     Grant  but  the  time, 

Grant  but  the  moment,  gods  !      If  I  am  wanting, 

May  I  drag  out  this  idiot-feigned  life 

To  late  old  age,  and  may  posterity 

Ne'er  hear  of  Junius  but  as  Tarquin's  fool !        [Exit,  L. 

SCENE  III. — Rome. — A  State  Apartment  in  the  Palace 

of  Tullia. 

Enter  TULLIA,  preceded  by  GUARDS,  BANNER  BEARERS, 
LADIES,  and  followed  by  VALERIUS.  She  appears  per 
turbed,  and  speaks  apart. 

Tul.  [Apart.]  Why  should  the  steady  mind  to  shadows 

yield  1 

And  yet  this  vision  shakes  my  frame  with  horror  ! 
I  thought  his  spirit  thundered  in  my  ear, 
'  Remember  when,  with  wild  ambition's  frenzy, 
'  And  all  Rome's  empire  in  your  view,  you  drove 
'  Your  chariot-wheels  o'er  your  dead  father's  body, 
'  Up  to  the  shouting  Forum!'     Why,  my  soul, 
Dost  thou  not  shun  the  remembrance  of  that  hour  ? 
'Twas  but  the  cause — the  cause — For  this  base  clay; 
How  differs  it  from  the  dull  earth  we  tread  on, 
When  the  life's  gone  ? — But,  next,  the  Sibyl  came, 
Whose  mystic  book  at  such  a  price  we  bought, 
And  cried,  '  The  race  of  Tarquin  shall  be  kings 
'  Till  a  fool  drive  them  hence,  and  set  Rome  free  !' 
Strange  prophecy  ! — What  fool  ] — It  cannot  be 
That  poor  dolt,  the  companion  of  my  sons  ! — 
Hark  thee,  Valerius — Know'st  thou  that  same  tool 
Now  in  the  camp  ] 

Vol.  I  know  him  well. — A  man 
Who,  when  he  had  a  name,  was  Lucius  Junius : — 


SCENE  III.]  BRUTUS.  13 

A  braver  citizen  Rome  never  boasted, 

And  wise  and  learned  withal ;  now  changed,  alas  ! 

A  spectacle  which  humbles  me  to  look  on  ! 

Tul.  But  is  he  harmless  in  his  moody  humours  ? 

Val.  Tame  as  my  horse,  which,  though  devoid  of  rea 
son, 

Shall  turn,  shall  stop,  and,  at  my  angry  bidding, 
Shall  kneel  till  I  am  throned  on  his  back  ! 
And  this  shall  Junius :  the  like  instinct  stirs 
Junius  and  him, — no  more. 

Tul.   [Apart.]   Hence,  idle  fears  ! — 
— Yet,  when  he  went  to  Delphi,  'tis  given  out 
The  oracle  addressed  him  with  strange  portents, 
And  each  night  since,  my  dreams  have  been  disturbed 
By  a  wild  form,  too  much  resembling  his, 
Leading  our  soldiers  forth  with  sword  and  flame, 
Revolters  from  the  camp,  to  storm  the  palace. 
But  he  is  sent  from  thence,  and  shall  be  watched. 

Enter  HORATIUS,  L. 

Hor.  Your  orders  are  obeyed :  Lucius  awaits. 

Tul.  Set  him  before  us.  [Exit  Horatiua 

[  To  Valerius.]  Tell  me,  will  he  answer 
If  we  do  question  him  1 

Val.  I  think  he  will  : 

Yet  sometimes,  when  the  moody  fit  doth  take  him, 
He  will  not  speak  for  days;  yea,  rather  starve 
Than  utter  nature's  cravings ;  then,  anon 
He'll  prattle  shrewdly,  with  such  witty  folly 
As  almost  betters  reason. 

HORATIUS  returns  with  Lucius  JUNIUS. 

Tul.  Hark  thee,  fellow, 
How  art  thou  called  ? 

Luc.  A  fool. 

Tul.  Fool,  for  thy  nature  : 
Thou  answei-est  well, — but  I  demand  thy  name. 

Luc.  Nothing  but  fool. 

Tul.  His  faculties  are  brutish  : — 
BRUTUS  shall  be  thy  name. 

Pru.   Thanks  to  your  grace  ! 

Hor.  Dost  like  thy  new  name,  gentle  bi'ute  ? 


14  BRUTUS.  [ACT  I 

Bru.  So  well, 

Who  will  may  take  the  fool.     I  care  not  who — 
Your  highness,  an'  it  like  you. 

Hor.  I  the  fool ! 
Sirrah,  good  words,  or  I  will  have  thee  beaten. 

Bru.  A  fool  thou  wilt  not  heat — a  brute  thou  dar'st  not, 
For  the  dull  ass  will  kick  against  his  striker, 
If  struck  too  harshly. 

Tul.  Let  me  hear  no  more  ; 
There's  mischief  in  his  folly.     Send  him  hence. 

[Brutus  going,  K. 

But  stay — I'll  search  him  farther. — Hark  thee,  Brutus: 
Thou  wast  at  Delphi,  with  our  sons  the  princes — 
Tell  me — what  questions  put  they  to  Apollo  ? 

Bru.  Your  sons  did  ask  who  should  be   chief  in  Rome. 

Tul.  Ha  !      What  replied  the  oracle  to  that  1 

Bru.  With  pains  and  stragglings,  the  prophetic  dame 
This  destiny  reported  from  her  god — 
4  Great  and  most  glorious  shall  that  Roman  be, 
'  Who  first  shall  greet  his  mother  with  a  kiss.' 

Tul.  That  is  fulfilled  by  Sextus. 

Hor.  Ay,  he  straight 
Hastened  from  thence,   and  kissed  the  queen  his  mother. 

Bru.  Woe  for  me,  I  have  no  mother  ! — 
And  yet  I  kissed  her  first. 

Tul.  Thou  kissed  her  ?     Thou  ? 

Bru.  Yea,  madam;  for  just  then  my  foot  did  slip 
In  the  fresh  blood  of  a  new-slaughtei'ed  victim, 
And,  falling,  I  did  kiss  my  mother — earth. 

Tul.  Oh,  that  the  earth  had  swallowed  thee  outright, 
Till  thou  hadst  kissed  the  centre  !     I  perceive, 
The  gods  are  leagued  with  folly  to  destroy  us. 
My  very  blood  chills  at  my  heart. — Away  ! 

\Exit  TuHia,  Guards  and  Ladies,  rapidly,  n.  and  L. 

Hor.  Hark  thee,  thou  Brutus  : — I  in  part  suspect 
Thou  ap'st  this  folly  ;  if  I  find  thee  trifling 
Or  juggling  with  the  Pythia  for  predictions, 
By  all  the  gods,  I'll  have  thee  flayed,  thy  skin 
Striped  into  thongs,  to  strangle  thee  withal. 
Dissembling  varlet ! — 

[Crosses,  L.,  and  strikes  Brutus,  who  seizes  him 

Vol.  Shame,  my  lord  !  forbear ! 
Threat'ning  a  fool,  you  do  but  wrong  yourself. 


SCENE  III.]  BRUTUS.  15 

Hor.  But  that  the  pi'inces  love  his  son,  brave  Titus, 
My  dagger  should  have  pierced  his  throat  ere  now, 
And  sent  him  to  his  mother  earth  forever  ! 
He  shall  be  watched. — Come,  come  with  me,  Valerius. 

[Exit,  L.  U.  E 

Vol.  The  gods  restore  thee  to  thyself, 
And  us  to  thee  !  [Exit,  L.  u.  E 

Bru.  [Alone.]  A  little  longer, 
A  little  longer  yet  support  me,  patience  ! 
The  day  draws  on  :  it  presses  to  the  birth — 
I  see  it  in  the  forming  womb  of  time — 
The  embryo  liberty. — Ha  ! — tis  my  son — 
Down,  rebel  nature,  down  ! — 

Enter  TTTTJS,  K. 

Tit.  Welcome  to  Rome  ! 
Would  I  might  welcome  thee  to  reason,  too ! 

Bru.  Give  me  thy  hand — nay,  give  it  me — 

Tit.  What  would'st  thou  ? 
Speak  to  thy  son. 

Bru.  I  had  a  thing  to  say, 
But  I  have  lost  it.     Let  it  pass — no  mattei*. 

Tit.   Look  not  upon  me  with  those  eyes,  but  speak ; 
What  is  it  that  annoys  thee  ]  tell  thy  friend — 
How  can  I  serve  thee  ?      What  dost  lack  ? 

Bru.  Preferment. 
Thou  canst  do  much  at  court. 

Tit.  Ah,  this  is  nothing  ! 

Bru.  So  much  the  fitter  for  a  fool's  petition, 
And  a  court  promise. 

Tit-.  Oh,  this  trifling  racks  me. 

Bru.  Lend  me  thine  ear  :  I'll  tell  a  secret  to  thee 
Worth  a  whole  city's  ransom.     This  it  is  : 
Nay,  ponder  it,  and  lock  it  in  thy  heart — 
There  are  more  fools,  my  son,  in  this  wise  world, 
Than  the  gods  ever  made. 
I     Tit.  Say'st  thou,  my  father? 
Expound  this  riddle.     If  thy  mind  doth  harbour 
Aught  that  imports  a  son  like  me  to  know, 
Or,  knowing,  to  achieve,  declare  it. 

Bru.  Now,  my  son, 
Should  the  great  gods,  who  made  me  what  thou  see'st, 


16  BRUTUS.  [Acx  I. 

Repent,  and  in  their  vengeance  cast  upon  me 
The  burden  of  my  senses  back  again — 
What  wouldst  them  say  1 

Tit.  Oh,  my  lamented  father, 
Would  the  kind  gods  restore  thee  to  thy  reason — 

Bru.  Then,  Titus,  then  I  should  be  mad  with  reason. 
Had  I  the  sense  to  know  myself  a  Roman, 
This  hand  should  tear  this  heart  from  out  my  ribs, 
Ere  it  should  own  allegiance  to  a  tyrant. 
If,  therefore,  thou  dost  love  me,  pray  the  gods 
To  keep  me  what  I  am.     Where  all  are  slaves, 
None  but  the  fool  is  happy, 

Tit.  We  are  Romans — 
Not  slaves — 

Bru.  Not  slaves  1     Why,  what  art  thou  ? 

Tit.  Thy  son. 
Dost  thou  not  know  me  1 

Bru.  You  abuse  my  folly. 

I  know  thee  not. — WTert  thou  my  son,  ye  gods, 
Thou  wouldst  tear  off  this  sycophantic  robe, 
Tuck  up  thy  tunic,  trim  these  curled  locks 
To  the  short  warrior-cut,  vault  on  thy  steed  ; 
Then,  scouring  through  the  city,  call  to  arms, 
And  shout  for  liberty  ! 

Tit.  [Starts.]   Defend  me,  gods  ! 

Bru.  Ha  !  does  it  stagger  thee  1 

Tit.  For  liberty? 
Saidst  thou  for  liberty  ? — It  cannot  be. 

Bru.  Indeed  ! — 'tis  well — no  more. 

Tit.  What  would  my  father  ? 

Bru.  Begone  !  you  trouble  me.  [Crosses,  n. 

Tit.  Nay,  do  not  scorn  me. 

Bru.  Said  I  for  liberty  ]  I  said  it  not : 
The  awful  word,  breathed  in  a  coward's  ear, 
Were  sacrilege  to  utter.     Hence,  begone  ! 
Said  I,  you  were  my  son  ? — 'Tis  false  :  I'm  foolish  ; 
My  brain  is  weak,  and  wanders ;  you  abuse  it. 

Tit.  Ah,  do  not  leave  me ;  not  in  anger  leave  me. 

Bru.  Anger?     What's  that]  I  am  content  with  folly: 
Anger  is  madness,  and  above  my  aim  !        [Music  heard. 
Hark!  here  is  music  for  thee, — food  for  love, 
And  beauty  to  serve  in  the  rich  repast. 


SCENE  III.]  BRUTUS.  17 

Tarquinia  comes.     Go,  worship  the  bright  sun, 

And  let  poor  Brutus  wither  in  the  shade.  [Exit,  R. 

Tit.  Oh,  truly  said !  bright  as  the  golden  sun 
Tarquinia's  beauty  beams,  and  I  adore  !          [Soft  music. 

TARQUINIA  enters,  R.  u.  E.,  preceded  by  Damsels  bearing 
a  Crown  of  Gold,  some  with  Censors,  Sfc.,  proper  for 
the  ceremonials  of  a  dedication  to  Fortune. 

What  dedication,  or  what  holy  service, 
Doth  the  fair  client  of  the  gods  provide  1 
In  the  celestial  synod  is  there  one 
Who  will  not  listen  to  Tarquinia's  prayer? 

Tar.  I  go  to  Fortune's  temple,  to  suspend 
Upon  the  votive  shrine  this  golden  crown. 
While  incense  fills  the  fane,  and  holy  hymns 
Are  chaunted  for  my  brother's  safe  return, 
What  shall  I  ask  for  Titus  ? 

Tit.   Though  the  goddess, 

In  her  blind  bounty,  should  unthrone  the  world, 
To  build  me  one  vast  empire,  my  ambition, 
If  by  thy  love  unblest,  would  slight  the  gift : 
Therefore  of  Fortune  I  have  naught  to  ask  : — 
She  hath  no  interest  in  Tarquinia's  heart — 
Nature,  not  FoT'turie,  must  befriend  me  thei'e. 

Tar.   Thy  gentle  manners,  Titus,  have  endeared  thee, 
Although  a  subject  Roman,  to  Tarquinia. 
My  brother  Sextus  wears  thee  next  his  heart; 
The  queen  h'erself,  of  all  our  courtly  youth, 
First  in  her  favour  holds  the  noble  Titus  ; 
And  though  my  royal  father  well  may  keep 
A  jealous  eye  upon  thy  Junian  race, — 
A  race  unfriendly  to  the  name  of  king, — 
Yet  thee  he  cherishes  ;  with  generous  joy 
The  monarch  sees  thy  early  virtue  shoot, 
And  with  a  parent's  fondness  rears  its  growth. 

Tit.  Oh  !  neither  name,  nor  nature,  nor  the  voice 
Of  my  lost  father,  could  he  wake  to  reason, 
Not  all  the  wrongs  that  tyranny  could  pile 
On  my  afflicted  head, — not  all  the  praise 
That  patriot  gratitude  could  shower  upon  me, 
Can  shake  the  faithful  purpose  of  my  soul, 
To  sever  it  from  love  arid  my  Tarquinia. 


18  BRUTUS.  (Act  II. 

Tar.  Approve  that  firmness  in  the  shock  of  trial, 
And  if  my  love  can  recompense  thy  virtue, 
Nor  tortures,  nor  temptations,  nor  the  wreck 
Of  Rome  and  empire,  shall  divide  me  from  thee. 
To  this  I  pledge  my  hand.     Now  to  the  temple  ! 

[Exeunt  omnes. 

END    OF   ACT  I. 


ACT    II. 

SCENE  I. —  The  Tent  of  Sextus  in  the  Camp  before  Ardea. 
A  magnificent  Banquet. 

SEXTUS,  R.,  COLLATINUS,  R.  c.,  CLAUDIUS,  L.  c.,  andAp.vxa, 
L.,  discovered,  drinking. 

Sex.  Come,  then,  here's  to  the  fairest  nymph  in  Italy, 
And  she's  in  Rome. 

Aruns.  Here's  to  the  fairest  nymph  in  Italy ; 
And  she  is  not  in  Rome. 

Sex.  Where  is  she,  then  1 

Aruns.  Ask  Collatine  ;  he'll  swear  she's  at  Collatia. 

Sex.  His  wife! 

Aruns.  Even  so.  [  TJiey  rise  and  come  forward 

Claud.  Is  it  so,  Collatine  ? 
Well,  'tis  praiseworthy,  in  this  vicious  age, 
To  see  a  young  man  true  to  his  own  spousef 
Oh,  'tis  a  vicious  age  !     When  I  behold 
One  who  is  bold  enough  to  steer  against 
The  wind  of  tide  and  custom,  I  behold  him 
With  veneration ;  'tis  a  vicious  age  ! 

Col.   Laugh  on,  though  I'm  the  subject!      If  to  love 
My  wife's  ridiculous,  I'll  join  the  laugh  ; 
Though  I'll  not  say  if  I  laugh  at  or  with  you  ! 

Aruns.  [Ironically.]  The  conscious  wood  was  witness 

to  his  sighs, 

The  conscious  Dryads  wiped  their  watery  eyes, 
For  they  beheld  the  wight  forlorn,  to-day, 
And  so  did  I ; — but  I  shall  not  betray. 
Here  now  he  is,  however,  thanks  to  me — 
That  is,  his  semblance,  for  his  soul  dwells  hence. 


SCENE  I.]  BRUTUS.  19 

How  was  it  when  you  parted  1  [Mimicking.]   She — '  my 

'  love, 

'  Fear  not,  good  sooth,  I'll  very  constant  prove.' 
He  : — '  And  so  will  I, — for  whereso'er  I  steer, 
'  'Tis  but  my  mortal  clay  ;  my  soul  is  here.'  [All  laugh. 

Sex.  And  pr'ythee,  Collatine,  in  what  array 
Did  the  god  Hymen  come  to  thee  ?     How  dressed, 
And  how  equipped  ?     I  fear  me  much,  he  left 
His  torch  behind,  so  that  thou  couldst  not  see 
A  fault  in  thy  beloved ;  or  was  the  blaze 
So  burning  bright,  that  thy  bedazzled  eyes 
Have  since  refused  their  office  ? 

CoL  And  doth  Sextus 

Judge  by  his  own  experience,  then,  of  others  1 
To  him,  I  make  no  doubt,  hath  Hymen's  torch 
Discovered  faults  enough  !  what  pity  'twas 
He  had  not  likewise  brought  i'  th'  other  hand, 
A  mirror,  where  the  prince  might  read  himself. 

Sex.  I  like  thee  now  :  thou'rt  gay,  and  I'll  be  grave. 
As  to  those  dear,  delicious  creatures,  women, 
Hear  what  my  own  experience  has  taught  me  : — 
I've  ever  found  'em  fickle,  artful,  amorous, 
Fruitful  in  schemes  to  please  their  changeful  fancies, 
And  fruitful  in  resources  when  discovered. 
They  love  unceasingly — they  never  change — 
Oh,  never  ! — no  ! — excepting  in  the  object ! 
Love  of  new  faces  is  their  first  great  passion  ; 
Then  love  of  riches,  grandeur,  and  attention  ! 
Knowing  all  this,  I  seek  not  constancy, 
But,  to  anticipate  their  wishes,  rove, 
Humour  their  darling  passion,  and  am  blessed ! 

CoL  This  is  the  common  cant — the  stale,  gross,  idle, 
Unmeaning  jargon,  of  all  those,  who,  conscious 
Of  their  own  littleness  of  soul,  avoid 
With  timid  eye  the  face  of  modest  virtue  ; 
Who,  mingling  only  with  the  base,  and  flushed 
With  triumphs  over  those  they  dare  attack, 
The  weak,  the  forward,  or  depraved,  declare 
(And  fain  would  make  their  shallow  notions  current,) 
That  womankind  are  all  alike,  and  hoot 
At  virtue,  whereso'er  she  passes  by  them. 
I  have  seen  sparks  like  these — and  I  have  seen 


20  BRUTUS.  [Acx  II 

A  little  worthless  village  cur,  all  night 
Bay  with  incessant  noise  the  silver  moon, 
While  she,  serene,  throned  in  her  pearled  car, 

Sailed  in  full  state  along But  Sextus'  judgment 

Owns  not  his  words, — and  the  resemblance  glances 
On  others,  not  on  him. 

Sex.  Let  it  glance  where  and  upon  whom  it  will, 
Sextus  is  mighty  careless  of  the  matter. 
Now  hear  what  T  have  seen.     I've  seen  young  men, 
Who,  having  fancied  they  have  found  perfection — 

Col.  Sextus,  no  more — lest  I  forget  myself, 
And  thee. — I  tell  thee,  prince — 

Aruns.  Nay,  hold  ! 
Sextus,  you  go  too  far. 

Sex.  Why,  pray,  good  sir,  may  I  not  praise  the  wife 
Of  this  same  testy,  froward  husband  here, 
But  on  his  cheek  offence  must  quivering  sit  ? 
And  dreamed  of  insult ! — the  abortive  child 
Of  misconstruction,  whose  near-sighted  eye 
Discerns  not  jest  for  real. 

Col.  1  heed  you  not — jest  on  ;  I'll  aid  your  humour  : 
Let  Aruns  use  me  for  his  princely  laughter, 
Let  Claudius  deck  me  with  ironic  praise  ; 
But  when  you  touch  a  nearer,  dearer  subject, 
Perish  the  man,  nay,  may  he  doubly  perish, 
Who  can  sit  still,  and  hear,  with  skulking  coolness, 
The  least  abuse,  or  shadow  of  a  slight, 
Cast  on  the  woman  whom  he  loves  !  though  here 
Your  praise  or  blame  are  pointless  equally, 
Nor  really  add  the  least,  nor  take  away 
From  her  true  value,  more  than  they  could  add 
To  th'  holy  gods. 

Aruns.  If  that  a  man  might  dare  to  ope  his  lips 
When  Collatinus  frowns,  I  would  presume 
To  say  one  word  in  praise  of  my  own  wife ; 
And  I  will  say,  could  our  eyes  stretch  to  Rome, 
In  spite  of  the  perfections  of  Lucretia, 
My  wife,  who  loves  her  fire-side,  and  hates  gadding, 
Would  prove  far  otherwise  employed — and  better, — 
Ay,  better,  as  a  woman,  than  the  deity 
Residing  at  Collatia. 

Sex    [Aside.]   Well  timed  ; — I'll  seize  th'  occasion  : 


SCENE  II.]  BRUTUS.  2* 

View  this  Lucretia  ere  I  sleep,  and  satisfy 

My  senses  whether  fame  has  told  the  truth. 

[Aloud.]  I'll  stake  my  life  on't — Let  us  mount  our  horses, 

And  post  away  this  instant  towards  Rome. 

That  we  shall  find  thy  wife,  and  his,  and  his, 

Making  the  most  of  this,  their  liberty. 

Why,  'tis  the  sex  :  enjoying  to  the  full 

The  swing  of  licence  which  their  husbands'  absence 

Affords.     I'll  stake  my  life  that  this  is  true  : 

And  that  my  own,  (ill  as  I  may  deserve  it) — 

Knows  her  state  best,  keeps  best  within  the  bounds 

Her  matron  duties  claim  ;  that  she's  at  home, 

While  yours  are  feasting  at  their  neigbours'  houses. 

What  say'st  thou,  Collatine, 

On  noting  at  home  1 

Col.  Had  I  two  lives,  I'd  stake  them  on  the  trial, 
Nor  fear  to  live  both  out. 

Sex.  Let  us  away,  then. 

Come,  come,  my  Collatinus, — droop  not  thus — 
Be  gay. 

Col.  I  am  not  sad — 

Sex.  But  fearful  for  th'  event. 

Col.  Not  in  the  least. 

Sex.  A  little. 

Cof.  Not  a  whit : 
You  do  not  know  Luci'etia. 

Sex.  But  we  shall. 
Let's  lose  no  time.     Come,  brothers  !     Let's  away. 

[Exeunt  omnes,  R. 

SCENE  II. — Rome. — An  Apartment  in  tlie  Palace. 
Enter  BRUTUS,  L. 

Bru.  [Alone.]  Oh,  that  some  light  would  beam  from 

heav'n  to  teach  me 

When  to  burst  forth,  and  how  to  gain  my  purpose ! 
For  Rome  1  would  resign  all  other  bonds, 
And  tear  eacli  private  tie  from  my  fixed  heart. 
. — Ha  ! — .Some  one  comes  !     It  is  my  son  !      He  seems 
Wrapt  in  Elysium,  arid  elate  with  joy  !  [Retires. 

Enter  TITUS,  L. 
Tit.  Tis  done  !   'tis  done  !  auspicious  are  the  fates 


22  BRUTUS.  [A.cx  R 

Tarquinia's  word  is  pledged,  and  all  is  brightness  ! 

Bru.  [Coming  down.]  That  exclamation  was  too  lofty, 

boy: 

Such  raptures  ill  become  the  troubled  times — 
Of  such,  no  more. 

Tit.  Oh  !  at  an  hour  like  this, 
Who  could  repress  the  thrill  of  grateful  joy ! 

Bru.  [Eagerly.]  What  dost  thou  mean  ? 

Tit.  Tarquinia. 

Bru   What  of  her  ? 

Tit.  Her  vows  are  pledged, 
And  Heaven's  propitious  smile  will  make  her  mine. 

Bru.  Thine  ?     What  !     Thine  1     Heaven  make  Tar- 

quinia  thine  1 
Away  !  away  !  Heav'n  spurns  the  race  she  springs  from  ! 

Tit.  How  ! — Father,  wert  thou  to  thyself  restored, 
Thou  would'st  exult  to  see  thy  son  thus  blest. 
Our  vows  are  past.     They  cannot  be  recalled. 
And  soon  the  nuptial  altar  will  behold  her 
My  own  forever. 

Bru.  No,  Titus,  not  forever  ! 
If  thou  art  mine,  thou  canst  not  be  Tarquinia's. 
Renounce  thy  father — or  renounce  thy  love. 

Tit.  Nay,  loose  me,  father — this  is  frenzy  all. 
E'en  hadst  thou  spoken  the  dictates  of  thy  soul, 
(For  sure  thou  canst  not  know  what  thou  requir'st,) 
I  must  not,  would  not,  could  not,  yield  Tarquinia. 
Nay — let  me  go — or  my  racked  heart  will  break. 

Bru.  Leave  me.     Retire.     Thine  is  no  Roman  heait. 
Ere  long  the  moon  will  change — the  moon — my  god 
dess — 
And  then  thou  may'st  behold  a  change  in  Brutus. 

Tit.  'Tis  as  I  thought ;  Folly  resumes  its  reign. 
Look  on  him,  oh,  ye  gods ! 

Grant  him  once  more  the  treasure  now  withheld, 
And  to  his  son  restoi'e  a  long  lost  father  !  [Exit,  R. 

Bru.  [Alone.]  I  was  too  sudden.  I  should  have  delayed, 
And  watched  a  surer  moment  for  my  purpose. 
He  must  be  frighted  from  this  dream  of  love. 
What,  shall  the  son  of  Junius  wed  a  Tarquin ! 
As  yet  I've  been  no  father  to  my  son — 
I  could  be  none :  but,  through  the  cloud  that  wraps  me 


SCEHE  III.]  .      BRUTUS.  23 

I've  watched  his  mind  with  all  a  parent's  fondness, 
And  hailed,  with  joy,  the  Junian  glory  there. 
Could  I  once  burst  the  chains  which  now  enthral  him. 
My  son  would  prove  the  pillar  of  his  country — 
Dear  to  her  freedom  as  he  is  to  me. 

The  time  may  come  when  heaven  will  heal  our  wrongs— 
To  your  hands,  mighty  powers,  I  yield  myself — 
I  will  not  doubt  heaven's  goodness  or  Rome's  virtue — 
Then,  hence  despair!     Still  thou  and  I  are  twain  ! 

[Exit,  L. 

SCENE  III. —  The  House  of  Collatinus,  at  Collatia. — An 
Apartment  lighted  up. 

LUCRETIA  discovered,  surrounded  by  her  Maids,  all  em 
ployed  in  embroidery,  and  other  female  occupations. — 
LAVINIA  is  on  the  n.  of  Lucretia. 

Luc.  How  long  is  it,  Lavinia,  since  my  lord 
Hath  changed  his  peaceful  mansion  for  the  camp 
And  restless  scenes  of  war? 

Lav.  Why,  in  my  simple  estimation,  madam, 
'Tis  some  ten  days,  or  thereabout,  for  time 
Runs  as  it  should  with  me — in  yours,  it  may  be 
Perhaps  ten  years. 

Luc.  I  do  not  understand  thee. 
Say'st  thou,  with  me  time  runs  not  as  it  should  ? 
Explain  thy  meaning. — What  should  make  thee  think  so  ? 

Lav.  All  that  I  mean  is,  that  if  I  were  married, 
And  that  my  husband  were  called  forth  to  th'  wars, 
[  should  not  stra.y  through  the  grove  next  my  house, 
Invoke  the  pensive  solitude,  and  woo 
The  dull  and  silent  melancholy — brood 
O'er  my  own  thoughts  alone,  or  keep  myself 
Within  my  house  mewed  up,  a  prisoner. 
'Tis  for  philosophers 

To  love  retirement ;  women  were  not  made 
To  stand  cooped  up  like  statues  in  a  niche, 
Or  feed  on  their  own  secret  contemplations. 

Luc.  Go  to ;  thou  know'st  not  what  thou  say'st,    Lavi 
nia. 

I  thank  the  gods,  who  taught  me  that  the  mind, 
Possessed  of  conscious  virtue,  is  mare  rich 


24  BRUTUS.        t  [ACT  II 

Than  all  the  sumless  hoards  which  Plutus  boasts; 

And  that,  the  chiefest  glory  of  a  woman 

Is  in  retirement — that  her  highest  comfort 

Results  from  home-born  and  domestic  joys, — 

Her  noblest,  treasure,  a  deserving  husband  ! 

— Who,  not  a  prisoner  to  the  eye  alone, 

A  fair  complexion  or  melodious  voice, 

Shall  read  her  deeper — nor  shall  time,  which  palls 

The  rage  of  passion,  shake  his  ardent  love, 

Inci'easing  by  possession.     This,  (again  I  thank 

The  gracious  gods) — this  husband,  too,  is  mine  ! 

[Crosses,  n. 

— Soft — I  hear  footsteps  !     Hour  of  rapture  !     Look ! 
My  life,  my  love,  my  Collatinus  comes  ! 

Enter  COLLATINUS,   CLAUDIUS,  ARUNS,   and  SEXTUS  L; 
Lucretia  rushes  into  the  arms  of  Collatinus 

My  lord,  most  welcome  ! 

Col.  Welcome  these,  my  friends, 
Lucretia  ! — our  right  royal  master's  sons  ; 
Passing  this  way,  I  have  prevailed  with  them 
To  grace  our  humble  mansion. 

Luc.  Welcome  yourself! 

And  doubly  welcome,  that  you  bring  such  friends. 
Haste,  maidens,  haste — make  ready  for  our  guests ! 

[Exeunt  Attendantst  a. 
My  heart  is  full  of  joy  ! 

Aruns.  Rather,  fair  lady, 
Y"ou  should  be  angry,  that  unseasonably, 
And  with  abi-upt  intrusion,  we've  thus  broke 
Upon  your  privacy. 

Luc.  No,  my  good  lord  ; 

Those  to  whom  love  and  my  respect  are  due, 
Can  ne'er  intrude  upon  me  ;  had  I  known 
This  visit,  you,  perhaps,  might  have  been  treated 
With  better  cheer — not  a  more  kind  reception. 
This  evening,  little  did  I  think  my  house 
Would  have  possessed  such  lodgers. 

Claud.  Rather,  lady, 
Such  birds  of  passage — we  must  hence  to-night. 

Luc.  To-night  1     Doth  not  my  lord  say  no  to  that  ? 

Col.  I  would,  Lucretia  :  but  it  cannot  be. 


SCENE  III.j  BRUTUS.  25 

If  aught  the  house  affords,  my  dearest  love, 
To  set  before  your  guests,  I  pray  prepare  it: 
We  must  be  at  the  camp  ere  morning  dawn. 
An  hour  or  two  will  be  the  utmost  limit 
Allowed  us  here. 

Luc.   With  all  the  speed  I  can,  [Crosses,  R. 

I'll  play  the  caterer ;  though  I  am  tempted, 
Would  that  delay  your  journey,  to  be  tardy, 
And  prove  a  sluggish  housewife.  [Exit. 

Sex.  This  is  indeed  a  wife  !     Here  the  dispute 
Must  end ; — 
And,  Collatinus,  we  must  yield  to  thee  ! 

Aruns.  I  will  not  envy  thee, — but  'tis  a  wife 
Of  wives — a  precious  diamond,  picked 
From  out  the  common  pebbles.     To  have  found  her 
At  work  among  her  maids  at  this  late  hour, 
And  not  displeased  at  our  rude  interruption — 
Not  to  squeeze  out  a  quaint  apology, 
As,  '  I  am  quite  ashamed  ;  so  unprepared  ! 
'  Who  could  have  thought !     Would  I  had  known  of  :'t !' 
And  such  like  tacit  hints,  to  tell  her  guests 
She  wishes  them  away — thou'rt  happy,  Collatine. 

Col.  Enough,  enough  ! 

The  gods  forbid  I  should  affect  indifference, 
And  say  you  flatter  me.     I  am  most  happy. — 
But  Sextus  heeds  us  not.     He  seems  quite  lost. 

Sex.  Pray,  pardon  me  : 

My  mind  was  in  the  camp.     How  wine  could  heat  us 
To  such  a  mad  exploit,  at  such  a  time, 
Is  shameful  to  reflect  on  :  let  us  mount 
This  instant,  and  return. 

Col.  Now  we  are  here, 
We  shall  encroach  but  little  on  our  time 
If  we  partake  the  slender  fare  together 
Which  will,  by  this,  await  us.     Pray,  my  lords, 
This  way.  [Exit. 

Sex.  Along — I'll  follow  straight. 

[Exeunt  Aruns  and  Claudius. 

[Apart.]  Had  she  staid  here  till  now,  I  should  have  done 
Nothing  but  gaze.     Nymphs,  goddesses 
Are  fables;  nothing  can,  in  heaven  or  earth, 
Be  half  so  fair  !     But  there's  no  hope  !     Her  face, 


26  BRUTUS.  [ACT  111 

Her  look,  her  eye,  her  manners,  speak  a  heart 
Unknowing  of  deceit ;  a  soul  of  honour, 
Where  frozen  chastity  has  fixed  her  throne, 
And  unpolluted  nuptial  sanctity. 

— Peace,  undigested  thoughts  !     Down — down  !  till,  ri 
pened 
By  further  time,  ye  bloom !  [Exit,  R. 

END    OF    ACT   II. 


ACT     III. 

SCENE  I. — Rome. —  The  Capitol, — Equestrian  Statue  of 
Tarquinius  Supcrbus. — NigJU. —  Thunder  and  Light' 
ning. 

Enter  BRUTUS,  L.  u.  E. 

Bru.  \Alonc.\  Slumber  forsakes   me,  and  I  court  the 

horrors 

Which  night  and  tempest  swell  on  every  side. 
Launch  forth  thy  thunders,  Capitolian  Jove ! 
Put  fire  into  the  languid  souls  of  men  ; 
Let  loose  thy  ministers  of  wrath  amongst  them, 
And  crush  the  vile  oppressor  !     Strike  him  down, 
Ye  lightnings  !     Lay  his  trophies  in  the  dust ! 

[Storm  increases 

Ha  !  this  is  well !  flash,  ye  blue-forked  fires  ! 
Loud-bursting  thunders,  roar!   and  tremble,  earth! 

\A  violent  crash   of  thunder,  and   the  Statue,  of  Tar 

quin,  struck  by  a  Jlas/t,  is  shattered  to  pieces. 
What!  fallen  at  last,  proud  idol  !   struck  to  earth  ! 
I  thank  you,  gods  !  I  thank  you  !     When  you  point 
Your  shafts  at  human  pride,  it  is  not  chance, 
"Tis  wisdom  levels  the  commissioned  blow. 
But  I — a  thing  of  no  account — a  slave — 
I  to  your  forked  lightnings  bare  my  bosom 
In  vain — for  what's  a  slave — a  dastard  slave  1 
A  fool,  a  Brutus  1  [Storm  increases.^  Hark  !  the   storm 

rides  on  ! 

The  scolding  winds  drive  through  the  clattering  rain, 
And  loudly  scieams  the  haggard  witch  of  night. 


SCENE  I.]  BRUTUS.  27 

Strange  hopes  possess  my  soul.     My  thoughts  grow  wild, 

Engender  with  the  scene,  and  pant  for  action. 

With  your  leave,  majesty,  I'll  sit  beside  you, 

And  ruminate  awhile.  [Sits  on  a  fragment  of  the  Statue. 

On,  for  a  cause !     A  cause,  ye  mighty  gods  ! 

Soft,  what  stir  is  this  1 

Enter  VALERIUS,  followed  by  a  MESSENGER,  L. 

Vol.  What !   Collatinus  sent  for,  didst  thou  say  ] 

Mes.  Ay,  Collatinus,  thou,  and  all  her  kinsmen  ! 
To  come  upon  the  instant  to  Collatia; 
She  will  take  no  denial.     Time  is  precious, 
And  I  must  hasten  forth  to  bring  her  husband. 

[Crosses  behind,  and  exit,R. 

Bru.  [Apart.]  Ha  !  Collatinus  and  Lucretia's  kinsmen  ! 
There's  something  sure  in  this — Valerius,  too- 
Well  met — Now  will  I  put  him  to  the  test — 
Valerius — Hoa  ! 

Val.   Who  calls  me  ? 

Bru.   Brutus. 

Val.  Go, 
Get  thee  to  bed  !  [  Valerius  is  departing. 

Bru.  Valerius  ! 

Val.  Peace, 
Thou  foolish  thing  !     Why  dost  thou  call  so  loud  ? 

Bru.  Because  I  will  be  heard  !     The  time  may  come 
When  thou  may'st  want  a  fool. 

Val.  Pr'ythee,  begone ! 
I  have  no  time  to  hear  thy  prattle  now. 

Bru.  By  Hercules,  but  you  must  hear. 

[Seizing  his  arm. 

Val.  You'll  anger  me. 

Bru.  Waste  not  your  noble  anger  on  a  fool— 
Twere  a  brave  passion  in  a  better  cause. 

Val.  Thy  folly's  cause  enough. 

Bru.  Rail  not  at  folly — 
There's  but  one  wise, 
And  him  the  gods  have  killed. 
1      Val.  Killed  ?     Whom  ? 

Bru.  Behold! 

Oh,  sight  of  pity  ! — Majesty  in  ruins  ! 
;Down  on  your  knees — down  to  your  kingly  idol! 


28  BRUTUS.  I  Ac*  II,. 

Vol.  Let  slaves  and  sycophants  do  that :  not  I. 

Bru.  Wilt  thou  not  kneel  ? 

Vol.  Begone ; 
Valerius  kneels  not  to  the  living  Tarquin. 

Bru.  Indeed  ! — Belike  you  wish  him  laid  as  low  ? 

VaL  What  if  I  do  ? 

Bru.  Jove  tells  thee  what  to  do — 
Strike  ! — Oh  !    the  difference  'twixt   Jove's  wrath  and 

thine  ! 

He,  at  the  crowned  tyrant  aims  his  shaft : 
Thou,  mighty  man,  would'st  frown  a  fool  to  silence. 
And  spurn  poor  Brutus  from  thee. 

VaL  What  is  this  ? 

Let  me  look  nearer  at  thee.     Is  thy  mind, 
That  long-lost  jewel,  fouTid  1 — and  Lucius  Junius, 
Dear  to  my  heart,  restored  1     Or  art  thou  Brutus, 
The  scoff  and  jest  of  Rome,  and  this  a  fit 
Of  intermittent  reason  ? 

Bru.  I  am  Brutus  ! 

Folly,  be  thou  my  goddess  !     I  am  Brutus, 
If  thou  wilt  use  me  so  ! — If  not,  farewell. 
Why  dost  thou  pause  ?     Look  on  me  !   I  have  limbs, 
Parts  and  proportions,  shoulders  strong  to  bear, 
And  hands  not  slow  to  strike  !      What  more  than  Brutus 
Could  Lucius  Junius  do  1 

Vol.  A  cause  like  ours 

Asks  both  the  strength  of  Brutus,  and  the  wisdom 
Of  Lucius  Junius. 

Bru.  No  more — we're  interrupted. 

Vol.  Farewell.     Hereafter  we'll  discourse. 
And  may  the  gods  confirm  the  hope  you've  raised  ! 

[Exit,  R. 

Bru.  [Alone.]  My  soul  expands !  my  spirit  swells  with 
in  me, 

As  if  the  glorious  moment  were  at  hand  ! 
Sure  this  is  Sextus — why  has  he  left  the  camp  ] 
Alone — and  muffled ! 

Enter  SEXTUS,  wrapped,  in  a  mantle,  R.  u.  E.,  and  crosses,  L. 

Welcome,  gentle  prince  ! 

Sex.  Ha  !   Brutus  here  ! — Unhoused  amid  the  storm  ? 
Bru.  Whence  com'st  thou,  prince  1  from  battle  ?  from 
the  camp! 


SCENE  I.]  BRUTUS.  29 

Sex.  Not  from  the  camp,  good  Brutus — fiom  Collatia — 
The  camp  of  Venus, — not  of  Mars,  good  Brutus. 

Bru.  Ha! 

Sex.  Why  dost  thou  start  ? — thy  kinswoman,  Lucretia— 

Bru.  [Eagerly.]  Well — what  of  her?  speak! 

Sex.  Ay,  I  will  speak, — 

And  I'll  speak  that  shall  fill  thee  with  more  wonder, 
Than  all  the  lying  oracle  declared. 

Bru.  Nay,  prince,  not  so ;  you  cannot  do  a  deed 
To  make  me  wondei\ 

Sex.  Indeed  !     Dost  think  it  ? 
Then  let  me  tell  thee,  Brutus, — wild  with  passion 
For  this  famed  matron, — though  we  met  but  once, — 
Last  night  I  stole  in  secret  from  the  camp, 
Where,  in  security,  I  left  her  husband. 
She  was  alone.     I  said  affairs  of  consequence 
Had  brought  me  to  Collatia.     She  received  me 
As  the  king's  son,  and  as  her  husband's  friend — 

Bru.  [Apart.]  Patience,  oh,  heart ! — a  moment  longer, 
patience  ! 

Sex.  When  midnight  came,  I  crept  into  her  chamber— 

Bru.  [Apart.]  Inhuman  monster  ! 

Sex.  Alarmed  and  frantic, 

She  shrieked  out,  '  Collatinus  !   Husband  !   Help  !' 
A  slave  rushed  in — I  sprung  upon  the  caitiff, 
And  drove  my  dagger  through  his  clamorous  throat; 
Then,  turning  to  Luci'etia,  now  half  dead 
With  terror,  swore,  by  all  the  gods,  at  once, 
If  she  resisted,  to  the  heart  I'd  stab  her; 
Yoke  her  fair  body  to  the  dying  slave, 
And  fix  pollution  to  her  name  forever  ! 

Bru.  And — and — the  matron? — 

Sex.  Was  mine ! 

Bru.  [  With  a  burst  of  'frenzy '.]  The  furies  curse  you, 

then  !     Lash  you  with  snakes  ! 
When  forth  you  walk,  may  the  red  flaming  sun 
Strike  you  with  livid  plagues  ! — 
Vipers,  that  die  not  slowly,  gnaw  your  heart! 
May  earth  be  to  you  but  one  wilderness  ! 
May  you  hate  yourself — 
For  death  pray  hourly,  yet  be  in  tortures 
Millions  of  years  expiring  ! 


30  BRUTUS.  [AcT  III, 

Sex.  Amazement !  What  can  mean  this  sudden  frenzy? 

Bru.  What?     Violation!     Do  we  dwell  in  dens, 
In  caverned  rocks,  or  amongst  men  in  Rome  ? 

[Thunder  and  lightning  become  very  violent. 
Hear  the  loud  curse  of  Heaven  !      'Tis  not  for  nothing 
The  thunderer  keeps  this  coil  above  your  head  ! 

[Points  to  the  fragments  of  the  statue. 
Look  on  that  ruin  !     See  your  father's  statue 
Unhorsed  and  headless  !      Tremble  at  the  omen  ! 

Sex.  This  is  not  madness.  Ha!  my  dagger  lost ! — 
Wretch  !  thou  shalt  not  escape  me.  Ho  !  a  guard  ! — 
The  rack  shall  punish  thee  1  A  guard,  I  say  !  [Exit. 

Bru.  [Alone.[  The  blow  is  struck!  the  anxious  mes 
sages 

To  Colbmnus  and  his  friends,  explained  : 
And  now,  Rome's  liberty  or  loss  is  certain  ! 
I'll  hasten  to  Collatia — join  my  kinsmen — 
To  the  moon,  folly  !     Vengeance,  I  embrace  thee  !   [Exit. 

SCENE  II. — An  Apartment  in  the  House  of  Collatinus. 

COLLATJNUS  enters  wildly,  a     bloody  dagger  in  his  hand, 
followed  by  VALERIUS  and  LUCRETIUS,  R. 

Col.  *She's  dead !  Lucretia's  dead  !     I  plucked  this 

a'.eel 

From  my  Lucretia's  heart !     This  is  her  blood  ! 
Howl,  howl,  ye  men  of  Rome  '     Look  !  there  she  lies, 
That  was  your  wonder ! 

Ye  mighty  gods,  where  are  your  thunders  now? 
V  ?  men  and  warriors,  have  you  human  hearts  ? 
F  ?t  who  shall  dare  to  mourn  her  loss  like  me  1 

Enter  BRUTUS,  L. 

"Bra,.  I  dare, — and  so  dare  every  honest  Roman. 
Luc.  Whence  comes  this  mad  intrusion  ?     Hence,  be 


gone 


Bru.  The  noble  spirit  fled  !     How  died  Lucretia? 
Vol.   By  her  own  hand  she  died  ! 
Jiru.  Heroic  matron  ! 
.'Tow,  now  the  hour  is  come  !     By  this  one  blow 

*  The  scene  which  was  omitted  after  the  first  representation,  and  for  which  thii 
rotroduotory  speech  of  Collatiuus  is  substituted,  will  be  found  in  a  note  at  the  eud 
of  the  play. 


SCENE  II.]  BRUTUS.  31 

Her  name's  immortal,  and  her  country  saved!   [Crosses,  c. 
Hail!  dawn  of  glory  !   [Snatching  the  dagger]  Hail,  thou 

sacred  weapon  ! 
Virtue's  deliverer,  hail ! 

Hear,  Romans,  hear !  did  not  the  Sibyl  tell  you, 
A  fool  should  set  Rome  free  1     I  am  that  fool : 
Brutus  bids  Rome  be  free  !  [Crosses,  L. 

Val.  What  can  this  mean  ? 

Bru.  It  means  that  Lucius  Junius  has  thrown  off 
The  mask  of  madness,  and  his  soul  rides  forth 
On  the  destroying  whirlwind,  to  avenge 
The  wrongs  of  that  bright  excellence  and  Rome  ! 
Luc.  Can  this  be  Lucius  Junius  ? 
Val.  Ha  !     The  voice 
Of  inspiration  speaks! 

Col.  Oh,  glorious  Brutus, 
Let  me  in  tears  adore  the  bounteous  gods 
Who  have  restored  thee  to  redress  my  woes; 
And,  in  my  woes,  my  country ! 

Bru.  No  more  of  this. 
Stand  not  in  wonder.     Every  instant  now 
Is  precious  to  your  cause.     Rise  !     Snatch  your  arms ! 

[Kneels. 

Hear  me,  great  Jove !  and  thou,  paternal  Mars, 
And  spotless  Vesta  !      To  the  death,  I  swear 
My  burning  vengeance  shall  pursue  these  Tarquins  ! 
Ne'er  shall  my  limbs  know  rest  till  they  are  swept 
From  off'  the  earth,  which  groans  beneath  their  infamy ! 
This,  from  the  bottom  of  my  soul,  I  swear  !  [Rises. 

Valerius,  Collatine,  Lucretius, — all — 
Here,  I  adjure  ye  by  this  fatal  dagger, 
All  stained  and  reeking  with  her  sacred  blood, 
Be  partners  in  my  oath — revenge  her  fall ! 
All.  We  swear ! 

Bru.  Well  have  ye  said  :  and,  oh,  methinks  I  see 
The  hovering  spirit  of  the  murdered  matron 
Look  down  and  bow  her  aiiy  head  to  bless  you  ! 
Summon  your  slaves,  and  bear  the  body  hence 
High  in  the  view,  through  all  the  streets  of  Rome, 
Up  to  the  Forum  ! — On  !      The  least  delay 
May  draw  down  ruin,  and  defeat  our  glory. 
On,  Romans,  on  !     The  fool  shall  set  you  free ! 

[Exeunt  omnet. 


32  BRUTUS.  [ACT  III. 

SCENE  III. —  The  Palace  of  Tullia. 

Enter  FLAVIUS  CORUNNA,  L.,  in  haste,  meeting  HORA- 
TIUS,  R. 

Cor.  My  lord,  my  lord !     Quick,  tell  me,  where  is  Tul 
lia  1 

Hor.  Whence  this  alarm  ?  what  would'st  thou  1 
Cor.  Rebellion  rages — 
Hor.  Rebellion? 
Cor.  Lucretia, 

The  wife  of  Collatinus,  is  no  more. 
The  furious  multitude  have  borne  her  body 
With  shouts  of  vengeance  through  the  streets  of  Rome, 
And  '  Sextus  Tarquin,'  is  the  general  cry. 

Hor.  Where  are  thy  troops  1  why  dost  thou  dally  here, 
When  thou  should'st  pay  their  insolence  with  death  ? 

Cor.  The  soldiers  join  the  throng — the  gates  are  closed, 
And  the  mad  crowd  exclaim,  '  We  banish  Tarquin.' 
Brutus  is  at  their  head,  and  leads  them  on. 

Hor.  What  miracle  is  this  ?     How  say'st  thou,  Brutus  ? 
Cor.  Ay,  the  fool  Brutus.     Now  before  the  rostrum 
The  body  of  Lucretia  is  exposed, 
And  Brutus  there  harangues  assembled  Rome. 
He  waves  aloft 

The  bloody  dagger  ;  all  the  people  hear  him 
With  wildest  admiration  and  applause  ; 
He  speaks  as  if  he  held  the  souls  of  men 
In  his  own  hand,  and  moulded  them  at  pleasui'e. 
They  look  on  him  as  they  would  view  a  god, 
Who,  from  a  darkness  which  invested  him, 
Springs  forth,  and,  knitting  his  stern  brow  in  frowns, 
Proclaims  the  vengeful  will  of  angry  Jove. 

Hor.  Fly  through  the  city ;  gather  all  the  force 
You  can  assemble,  and  straight  hasten  hither. 
I'll  to  the  queen — Lose  not  a  moment.     Hence  ! 
I  tremble  for  Rome's  safety  ! — haste  ! — begone  ! 

[Exeunt,  Horatius,  R.,  Corunna,  "L, 

SCENE  IV. —  The  Forum. 

The.  Populace  Jill  the  Stage.     BRUTUS  is  discovered  upon 
the  Forum.      The  dead  body  of  LUCRETIA  is  on  a  bier 


SCENB  IV.J  BRUTUS.  33 

beneath.  COLLATINUS,  LUCRETIUS,  and,  the,  Female  At 
tendants  of  Lucretia  stand  around  her  Corpse.  VALE 
RIUS  and  others  are  seen. 

Bru.  Thus,  thus,  my  friends,  fast  as  our  breaking  hearts 
Permitted  utterance,  we  have  told  our  story ; 
And  now,  to  say  one  word  of  the  imposture — 
The  mask  necessity  has  made  me  wear. 
When  the  ferocious  malice  of  your  king, — 
King  do  I  call  him  ? — When  the  monster,  Tarquin, 
Slew,  as  you  most  of  you  may  well  remember, 
My  father  Marcus  and  my  elder  brother, 
Envying  at  once  their  virtues  and  their  wealth, 
How  could  I  hope  a  shelter  from  his  power, 
But  in  the  false  face  I  have  worn  so  long  ? 

1st  Rom.  Most  wonderful  ! 

2d  Horn.  Silence  !  he  speaks  again. 

Bru.  Would  you  know  why  I  summoned  you  together? 
Ask  ye  what  brings  me  here  1     Behold  this  dagger. 
Clotted  with  gore  !      Behold  that  frozen  corse  ! 
See  where  the  lost  Lucretia  sleeps  in  death  ! 
She  was  the  mark  and  model  of  the  time, 
The  mould  in  which  each  female  face  was  formed 
The  very  shrine  and  sacristy  of  virtue  ! 
Fairer  than  ever  was  a  form  created 
By  youthful  fancy  when  the  blood  strays  wild, 
And  never-resting  thought  is  all  on  fire  ! 
The  worthiest  of  the  worthy  !     Not  the  nymph 
Who  met  old  Numa  in  his  hallowed  walks, 
And  whispered  in  his  ear  her  strains  divine, 
Can  I  conceive  beyond  her ; — the  young  choir 
Of  vestal  virgins  bent  to  her.     'Tis  wonderful, 
Amid  the  darnel,  hemlock,  and  base  weeds 
Which  now  spring  rife  from  the  luxurious  compos*. 
Spread  o'er  the  realm,  how  this  sweet  lily  rose, — 
How  from  the  shade  of  those  ill  neighbouring  plant* 
Her  father  sheltered  her,  that  not  a  leaf 
Was  blighted,  but,  arrayed  in  purest  grace, 
She  bloomed  unsullied  beauty.     Such  perfections 
Might  have  called  back  the  torpid  breast  of  age 
To  long-forgotten  rapture  ;  such  a,  mind 
Might  have  abashed  the  boldest  libertine, 
And  turned  desire  to  reverential  love 


34  BRTJTUS.  [ACT  III 

And  holiest  affection  !     Oh,  my  countrymen  ! 

You  all  can  witness  when  that  she  went  forth  : 

It  was  a  holiday  in  Rome  ;   old  age 

Forgot  its  crutch,  labour  its  task, — all  ran  ; 

And  mothers,  turning  to  their  daughters,  cried, 

'  There,  there's  Lucretia  !'   Now,  look  ye,  where  she  lies  ! 

That  beauteous  flower,  that  innocent  sweet  rose, 

Torn  up  by  ruthless  violence — gone  !   gone  !   gone  ! 

All.  Sextus  shall  die  !  [Shout. 

Bru.  But  then — the  king — his  father — 

1st  Rom.  What  shall  be  done  with  him  ? 

2d  Rom.  Speak,  Brutus  ! 

3d  Rom.  Tell  us  !     Tell  us  ! 

Bru.  Say,  would  you  seek  instruction  ?  would  ye  ask 
What  ye  should  do  ]     Ask  ye  yori  conscious  walls, 
Which  saw  his  poisoned  brother,  saw  the  incest 
Committed  there,  and  they  will  cry,  Revenge  ! 
Ask  yon  deserted  street,  where  Tullia  drove 
O'er  her  dead  father's  corse,  'twill  cry,  Revenge  ! 
Ask  yonder  senate-house,  whose  stones  are  purple 
With  human  blood,  and  it  will  cry,  Revenge  ! 
Go  to  the  tomb  where  lies  his  murdered  wife, 
And  the  poor  queen,  who  loved  him  as  her  son, 
Their  unappeased  ghosts  will  shriek,  Revenge  ! 
The  temples  of  the  gods,  the  all-viewing  heavens, 
The  gods  themselves,  shall  justify  the  cry, 
And  swell  the  general  sound,  Revenge  !  Revenge  ! 

All.  Revenge  !     Revenge  ! 

Bru.  And  we  will  be  revenged,  my  countrymen  ! 
Brutus  shall  lead  you  on  ;  Brutus,  a  name 
Which  will,  when  you're  revenged,  be  dearer  to  him 
Than  all  the  noblest  titles  earth  can  boast.  [Shout. 

1st  Rom.  Live,  Brutus  ! 

2d  Rom.  Valiant  Brutus  ! 

3d  Rom.  Down  with  Tarquin  ! 

2d  Rom.  We'll  have  no  Tarquins  ! 

1st  Rom.  We  will  have  a  Brutus  ! 

3d  Rom.  Let's  to  the  Capitol,  and  shout  for  Brutus  ! 

Bru.  I  your  king1? 

Brutus  your  king? — No,  fellow-citizens! 
If  mad  ambition  in  this  guilty  frame 
Had  strung  one  kingly  fibre, — yea,  but  one — 


SCENE  I.]  BRUTUS.  31 

By  all  the  gods,  this  dagger  which  I  hold 
Should  rip  it  out,  though  it  entwined  my  heart. 

Vol.   Then  1  am  with  thee,  noble,  noble  Brutus  ! 
Brutus,  the  new  restored  !      Brutus,  by  Sibyl, 
By  Pythian  prophetess  foretold,  shall  lead  us  ! 

Bru.  Now  take  the  body  up.     Bear  it  before  ua 
To  Tarqum's  palace  ;  there  we'll  light  our  torches, 
And,  in  the  blazing  conflagration,  rear 
A  pile  for  these  chaste  relics,  that  shall  send 
Her  soul  amongst  the  stars.     On  !   Brutus  leads  you  ! 

[Exeunt,  the  Mob  shouting,  R. 

END    OF    ACT    III. 


ACT       IV. 

SCENE  I. — A  Court  belonging  to  Tarquin's  Palace.    In  the 
front,  a  Grand  Entrance,  with  Folding  Gates  closed. 

Enter  TULLIA,  R. 

Till.  [Alone.]  Gods  !  whither  shall  a  frantic  mother  fly  1 
Accursed  seige  of  Ardea  !      Tarquin,  Tarquin, 
Where  art  thou  1     Save  thy  wife,  thy  son,  thy  city  ! 

Enter  TITUS,  R. 

Tit.  Where  is  the  prince  ?  where's  Sextus  ? 

Tul.  Where  ?     Oh,  heavens  ! 

His  madness  hath  undone  us  !     Where  is  Sextus? 
Perhaps  ev'n  now  the  barbarous  ruffians  hurl  him 
Alive  into  the  flames,  or,  piece-meal,  drag 
Along  the  rebel  streets  his  mangled  trunk — 

Tit.  No  more  !     I'll  save  him,  or  avenge — 

[Going,  Horatius  meets  and  stops  him. 

Hor.  Turn,  noble  Roman,  turn  ; 

Set  not  your  life  upon  a  desperate  stake!  [Shout. 

Hark  !  they  are  at  thy  gates  !  [Shout. 

Tul.  Does  my  son  live  ! 

Hor.  Furious  he  sprang  upon  the  rebel  throng, 
And  hewed  his  desperate  passage  :  but  the  time 
Admits  no  further  question — Save  yourself! 

Tul.   Who  leads  them  on  ? 


36  BRUTUS.  [Ad  IV 

Hor.  Your  new-named  fool,  your  Brutus. 

Tit.  Death  !  my  father? 

Tul.  Brutus  in  arms  ! 

Oh,  Sibyl!     Oh,  my  fate  !  farewell  to  greatness! 
I've  heard  my  doom. 

Tit.  Earth,  earth,  enclose  me  ! 

Tul.  Hark  !  it  bursts  upon  us  !          [Shouts  are  heard. 

Hor.  Ha!  nearer  yet !     Now  be  propitious,  Mars  ! 
Now  nerve  my  arm  with  more  than  mortal  fury, 
Till  the  dissembler  sink  beneath  its  vengeance.       [Exit. 

Tul.  Fly  !  save  my  child — save  my — save  your  Tarqui- 
nia ! 

Tit.  Or  die  defending.  [Exit. 

[  The  shouts  and  tumult  become,  very  violent,  and  the 
battering  at  the  gate  and  wall  commences. 

Tul.  Ah  !  if  amidst  my  legions  I  might  fall, 
Death  were  not  then  inglorious  ;  but  to  perish 
By  the  vile  scum  of  Rome — hunted  by  dogs — 
Baited  to  death  by  brawling,  base  mechanics — 
Shame  insupportable  ! 

f  Shouts  hear d — the  Gate  and  Wall  are  shattered  down, 
the  Palaces  behind  are  in  flames — the  Soldiers  and 
Populace  rush  over  the  Ruins — Brutus  appears  in 
the  midst  of  them,  and  advances  to  the  front. 

Bru.  Seize  the  parricide  ! 

[  They  advance  and  surround  her. 

Tul.  Avaunt !     I  am  your  queen. 

Bru.  Tarquins  !  we  cast  you  from  us. 

Tul.  Give  me  a  sword,  and  let  me  fall  like  Tullia. 

Bru.  No,  we  reserve  our  swords  for  nobler  uses 
Than  to  make  war  with  women  :  to  the  Tarquins, 
To  your  adulterous  son,  we  leave  that  shame. 

Tul.  If  then  'twill  better  sate  thy  cruelty, 
Precipitate  me  quick  into  those  flames, 
And  with  the  wreck  of  empire  mix  my  ashes. 

Bru.  Take  her  to  Rhea's  temple ;  take  her  hence, 
And  lodge  her  with  her  ancestors  ! 

Tul.  Ye  gods  ! 
My  father's  sepulchre  ! — I'll  not  approach  it ! 

Bru.  'Twill  furnish  wholesome  recollection.     Hence  I 

Tul.  Not  to  that  fatal  place  !     Send  me  not  thither  ! 

Bru.  'Tis  fixed. 


SCENE  I.] 


BRUTUS.  37 


Tul.  Choose  the  most  loathsome  dungeon — there  con 
fine  me, 

Or  give  me  death  instead.     My  heart  recoils 
Against  that  temple. 

Bru.  There,  and  only  there, 
By  your  dead  father's  tomb,  you  must  abide 
The  judgment  of  the  state. 

Tul.  Then,  by  the  gods, 
Whom,  for  the  last  time,  1  invoke, — 
If  no  means  else 

Of  ready  death  present  themselves, 
No  particle  of  food  shall  pass  these  lips, 
Till,  in  the  void  of  nature,  hungry  madness, 
With  blank  oblivion  entering,  shall  confound 
And  cancel  all  perception.  [Exit  Tullia  guarded,  R. 

Enter  TITUS,  L.,  who  meets  Brutus  as  he  is  going  off,  R. 

Tit.  Turn,  oh,  my  father, 
And  look  upon  thy  son  ! 

Bru.  What  would'st  thou  1  speak 

Tit.  If  thou  hast  reason,  oh,  have  mercy  also  ! 
But  if  in  madness  thou  hast  done  this  deed — 

Bru.  I  am  not  mad,  but  as  the  lion  is, 
When  he  breaks  down  the  toils  that  tyrant  craft 
Hath  spread  to  catch  him.     Think  not  we  will  suffer 
These  monsters  to  profane  the  air  of  Heaven. 
Shall  Titus,  then,  oppose  our  great  design  1 
Shall  Brutus  meet  a  recreant  in  his  son  ? 
Banish  this  folly ! — Have  a  care  !   I  know  thee— 
There  is  a  lurking  passion  at  thy  heart, 
Which  leaves  but  half  a  soul  for  Rome  and  me  ! 

Tit.  You  wrong  me.      Like  a  Roman  I  exult 
To  see  Lucretia's  murder  thus  avenged — 
And  like  a  son  glory  in  such  a  father  ! 
Yet  hear  me  through. — Nay,  do  not  frown,  but  hear  me.— 

Bru.  Go  on  ;  confess  thy  weakness,  and  dismiss  it. 

Tit.  'Twas  in  the  sleep  of  my  dear  father's  reason, 
When  Tarquin's  freed-man,  in  a  saucy  mood, 
Vented  vile  jests  at  thy  unhappy  weakness  ; 
Stung  to  the  quick,  I  snatched  a  weapon  up, 
A.nd  felled  him  to  my  foot. 

Bru.  Why,  'twas  well  done. 


SS  ^HVTI-:--.  [Act  IV 

The  knave  was  saucy,  and  you  slew  liim  — On  ! 

Tit.  'Twas  on  this  very  spot  Tarquinia  stood, 
And  when  the  wrathful  father  had  denounced 
Immediate  death  on  this  my  filial  act, 
She  with  the  tongue  of  interceding  pity, 
And  tears  that  streamed  in  concert  with  her  suit, 
Implored,  prevailed,  and  gave  me  life— and  love. 

Bru.  'Tis  well.     Behold,  I  give  her  life  for  life  : 
Rome  may  be  free,  although  Tarquinia  lives. 
This  I  concede ;  but  more  if  thou  attemptest, — 
By  all  the  gods ! — Nay,  if  thou  dost  not  take 
Her  image,  though  with  smiling  Cupids  decked, 
And  pluck  it  from  thy  heart,  there  to  receive 
Home  and  her  glories  in  without  a  rival, 
Thou  art  no  son  of  mine,  thou  art  no  Roman  !   [Exit,  R, 

Enter  TARQUINIA,  L. 

Tar.  Save,  save  me,  Titus  !   oh,  amid  the  crash 
Of  falling  palaces,  presei-ve  Tarquinia  ! 
Or,  do  I  meet  in  thee  a  double  rebel, 
Traitor  alike  to  me  and  to  your  king? 
Speak,  I  conjure  thee  !     Will  the  son  of  Brutus 
Now  take  me  to  his  pity  and  protection, 
Or  stab  with  perfidy  the  heart  that  loves  him  ! 

Tit.  Cruel  suspicion  !     Oh,  adored  Tarquinia, 
I  live  but  to  preserve  you  !     You  are  free : 
I  have  my  father's  sanction  for  your  safety  ! 

Tar.  I  scorn  a  life  that  is  preserved  by  Brutus  ! 
I  scorn  to  outlive  parents,  brothers,  friends ! 
I'll  die  with  those 
Whom  this  dire  night  hath  murdered  ! 

Tit.  Who  are  murdered  ? 

Whom  hath  the  sword  of  Brutus  slain  ?     Not  one 
Of  all  thy  kindred — 

Tar.  Say'st  thou  1     Lives  my  mother  ? 

Tit.  She  lives — and  Sextus, — even  he  escapes 
The  storm  which  he  has  raised,  and  flies  to  Ardea. 

Tar.  Speed  him,  ye  gods,  with  eagle  swiftness  thither  ! 
And  may  those  thunders  which  now  shake  the  walls 
Of  tottering  Ardea,  like  a  whirlwind  burst 
On  this  devoted  city,  'whelm  its  towers, 
And  crush  ihe  traitorous  hive  beneath  their  niins. 

[Crosses,  K. 


SCENE  I.]  BRUTUS-  39 

Now,  Titus,  where  is  now  thy  promised  faith  1 
Didst  thou  not  swear  no  dangers  should  divide  us  ? 

Tit.  I  did  ;  and,  constant  to  my  oath,  behold  me 
Thy  faithful  guardian  in  this  night  of  terrors. 

Tar.  Be  still  my  guardian  ;  snatch  me  from  these  ter 
rors, 

Bear  me  to  Ardea,  be  the  friend  of  nature, 
And  give  the  rescued  daughter  to  the  arms 
Of  her  protecting  parent ;  thus  you  gain 
The  praise  of  men,  the  blessings  of  the  gods, 
And  all  that  honoui',  all  that  love  can  grant. 

Tit.  Despair  !     Distraction  !    Whither  shall  I  turn  me  I 

Tar.  Why  do  you  waver?     Cast  away  this  weakness  ; 
Be  glorious  in  your  cruelty,  and  leave  me. 
By  all  the  demons  who  prepare  the  heart 
To  rush  upon  the  self-destroying  steel, 
The  same  dire  moment  which  gives  thee  to  Brutus, 
Gives  me  to  death  ! 

Tit.  Horror  !      Tarquinia,  hold  ! 

Tar.  Lo !  I  am  armed.     Farewell!  [Crosses,  L.]  How 

I  have  loved  you, 

My  death  shall  witness — how  you  have  deceived  me, 
Let  your  own  conscience  tell. — Now  to  your  father ! 
Now  go,  and  mingle  with  the  murderers; 
Go,  teach  those  fiends  what  perjury  can  do, 
And  show  your  hands  bathed  in  Tarquinia's  blood 
The  filial  deed  shall  welcome  you  to  Brutus, 
And  fill  his  gloomy  soul  with  savage  joy. 

Tit.  Take,  take  me  hence  forever  !     Let  me  lose, 
In  these  dear  arms,  the  very  name  of  son, 
All  claims  of  nature,  every  sense  but  love ! 

Tar.  The  gods  that  guard  the  majesty  of  Rome, 
And  that  sweet  power,  whose  influence  turns  thy  heart 
To  pity  and  compliance,  shall  reward 
And  bless  thee  for  the  deed  ! 

Tit.  Can  he  be  blest, 
On  whom  a  father's  direful  curse  shall  fall? 

Tar.  A  madman's  imprecation  is  no  curse. 
Be  a  man. 

Tit.  Oh,  while  thy  love  upholds  me,  I  can  stand 
Against  the  world's  contempt;  remember,  only, 
For  whose  dear  sake  I  am  undone  ;  remember, 


40  BRUTUS.  TAcT  IV. 

My  heart  was  honour's  once — - 

Tar.  And  shall  be  ever  ! 

Come,  I  will  show  thee  where  bright  honour  grows, 
Where  thou  shall  pluck  it  from  the  topmost  branch, 
And  wear  it  in  its  freshest,  fairest  bloom.  [Exeunt,  L. 

SCENE  IT. — A  Street  in  Rome. 
Enter  HORATIUS  and  CELIUS,  L. 

Hor.  Brutus  and  Collatinus  are  appointed 
To  sovereign  sway,  as  consuls  for  the  year. 
Their  self-elected  senate  meets  to-morrow, 
Though  some  remain,  too  honest  for  their  views. 
These  for  security  exact  conditions — 
They  ask  a  chief,  whose  well-established  fame 
May  win  the  hearts  of  this  inconstant  people ; 
A  chief  so  brave,  that,  should  we  prove  victorious, 
He  may  compel  the  king  to  keep  his  faith  ; 
Or,  if  we  fall,  boldly  revenge  our  deaths — 
And  such  a  chief  I've  found. 

Cel.  Indeed  !     In  whom  ? 

Hor.  The  consul's  son — his  much-loved   son — young 
Titus. 

Cel.  What!  to  rebel  against  his  father's  power? 

Hor.  Ay,  he  is  ours.      This  very  night,  Tarquinia 
Will  lead  him  forth  to  the  Quirinal  gate, 
Whence  they  straight  hasten  to  the  camp  at  Ardea. 
Impetuous  youth  is  wrought  upon  with  ease. 
Though  'tis  his  father's  frown  upon  his  love, 
And  early  vows  pledged  to  the  fair  Tarquinia, 
Alone  which  prompt  him  thus  to  lead  our  band  : 
Once  in  our  power,  we'll  mould  him  to  our  ends : 
His  very  name  will  prove  a  tower  of  strength, 
And  Rome,  once  more,  shall  be  restored  to  Tarquin. 

Cel.  Bravely  resolved  !      But  tell  me — where  is  Tullia  f 

Hor.  A  captive,  and  confined  in  Rhea's  temple ; 
Watched  by  the  vestals,  who  there  guard  the  flame 
Upon  the  tomb  where  lies  her  murdered  father. 
Unhappy  Tullia  !  our  swords  shall  soon  release  thee. 
Come  !     Hence  at  once  !      The  hour  draws  near — away  ! 
Ere  two  days  pass  these  reptiles  shall  be  crushed, 
And  humbled  Rome  sue  for  its  monarch's  pardon. 

[Exeunt  Horatius  and  Celius,  R, 


SCEKK  III.]  BRUTUS.  41 

Enter  LUCRETIUS  and  VALERIUS,  L. 

Vol.   That  was  Horatius  'parted,  was  it  not  ? 

Luc.  The  same. 

Val.  Am  I  deceived  ?     Methiriks  I  heard 
Something  like  discontent  and  treason  muttered. 

Luc.  I  fear  all  is  not  safe.     Assembled  groups 
Of  Tarquin's  friends  have  been  seen  close  in  conference,. 
Muttering  his  name  aloud.     Ay,  and  some  base, 
Degenerate  Romans,  called  for  a  surrender. 

Val.   Horatius'  arts  may  justly  wake  suspicion  : 
And  Rome,  we  know,  is  still  disgraced  by  many 
Too  base,  too  sordid,  to  be  bravely  free. 
Let  us  go  forth  and  double  all  the  guards, 
See  their  steps  watched,  and  intercept  their  malice. 

Luc.  Nay,  there's  a  safer  course  than  that ;    arrest 
them  ! 

Val.  The  laws  and  rights  we've  sworn  to  guard,  for 
bid  it ! 

Let  them  be  watched.     We  must  not  venture  farther. 
To  arrest  a  Roman  upon  bare  surmise, 
Would  be  at  once  to  imitate  the  tyrant 
Whom  we  renounce,  and  from  his  throne  have  driven ! 

[Exeunt,  R. 

SCENE  III. — Rome. — A  little  dark. —  The  Temple  of  Rhea, 
with  a  large  Central  Door  leading  to  the  Tomb  of  Ser- 
vius  Tullius,  late  King  of  Rome.  On  one  side  of  the 
Stage,  a  Statue  of  Rhea,  and  on  the  other,  a  Statue  of 
Vesta,  with  altars,  and  incense  burning  before  each. 

PRIESTESS  of  Rhea.     VIRGINS  of  the  Temple. 

Pr.  Daughters  of  Rhea,  since  the  lords  of  Rome 
Have  to  your  holy  hands  consigned  the  charge 
Of  their  now  captive  Queen,  inform  the  Priestess 
How  your  sad  prisoner  abides  her  durance. 
Is  her  proud  soul  yet  humbled,  or,  indignant, 
Doth  it  still  breathe  defiance  and  contempt  ? 

Vir.  Sullen  and  silent,  she  resolves  on  death : 
She  will  not  taste  of  nourishment.     She  comes. 

Enter  TULLIA,  L. 
Pr.  I  pray  you,  royal  lady,  be  entreated — 


d2  BRUTUS. 


[ACT  IV. 


Tul.  I  tell  you,  no  ! 

Pr.  Think  what  a  train  of  weary  hours  have  passed 
Since  you  had  taste  of  food. 

Tul.  'Tis  well ! 
The  fewer  are  to  come. 

Pr.  How  can  you  live  to  meet  your  royal  husband, 
To  fold  your  children  in  your  arms  again, 
If  you  resist  support  ? 

Tul.  Ha  !  well  remembered  ! 

What  news  from  Ardea  ?     Will  he  march  for  Rome  ] 
Hark  !      Do  you  hear  his  trumpet  1     Is  he  coming  ? 
Ay,  this  is  hope,  and  worth  the  feeding. 
'Tis  well— 'tis  well ! 
But,  tell  me — doth  the  king  know  of  this  kindness? 

Pr.  What  king? 

Tul.  What  king? 
Brutus,  the  king  of  Rome, — knows  he  of  this  ? 

Pr.  He  does. 

Tul.  And  would  he  I  should  live  ? 

Pr.  He  would. 

Tul.  Merciful  villain  ! 

Yes,  he  would  have  me  live  to  page  his  triumphs  : 
I  know  the  utmost  of  his  mercy — 
Subtle  traitor  ! 

I'll  not  taste  food,  though  immortality 
Were  grafted  to  each  atom — Hark  !     What's  that  ? 
Heard  you  that  groan  ? 

Pr.  It  is  your  fancy's  coinage. 

Tul.  Again  !     'Tis  dee-p  and  hollow  : 
It  issues  from  the  vault — Set  the  door  open  ! 
Open,  I  say. 

Pr.   It  is  your  father's  sepulchre  ! 

Tul.  My  father!  righteous  gods  !   I  killed  my  father! 
Horrible  retribution  ! 

Pr.  Wretched  daughter, 

If  thou  hast  done  this  deed,  prepare  thy  spirit, 
By  wholesome  meditation,  for  atonemen 
And  let  no  passion  interrupt  the  task 
Of  penitence  and  prayer. 

Tul.  I'll  pray  no  more. 

There  is  no  mercy  in  the  skies  for  murder, 
Therefore  no  praying,  none. 


SCENE  I.J  BRUTUS. 


43 


I  have  a  plea  for  my  impenitence — 

Madness  ! 

These  groans  have  made  me  mad  ;  all  the  night  through 

They  howled  distraction  to  my  sleepless  brain ! 

You've  shut  me  up  with  furies  to  torment  me, 

And  starved  me  into  madness.     Hark  !  again  ! 

Unbar  the  door  !     Unbar  it !     By  the  gods, 

The  voice  is  more  than  human,  which  I  hear! 

I'll  enter  there — I  will  be  satisfied, 

Although  the  confirmation  should  present 

His  awful  form — 

[She  rushes  forward.  The  Priestess  and  Vestals,  in 
confusion  and  alarm,  spring  to  the  bar,  which,  fal 
ling  with  a  crash,  the  door  flies  open,  and  discovers 
a  Monumental,  Figure  of  Servius  TuHius,  with 
lamps  burning  on  each  side  of  it.  Tullia  recoils, 
sJtrieks,  falls,  and  expires.  The  others  -group  around, 
her,  and  the  Curtain  falls  to  soft  music. 

END    OF    ACT  IV. 


ACT    V. 

SCENE  I. — A  Street  in  Rome,  with  the  Temple  of  Mars 
in  view. 

Enter  BRUTUS  and  COI.LATINUS,  as  Consuls,  with  LICTORS, 
VALERIUS,  LUCRETIUS,  and  numerous  followers,  L. 

Bru.    You  judge   me   rightly,   friends.      The  purpled 

robe, 

The  curule  chair,  the  lictors'  keen-edged  axe, 
Rejoice  not  Brutus  ; — 'tis  his  country's  freedom  ! 
When  once  that  freedom  shall  be  firmly  rooted, 
Then,  with  redoubled  pleasure,  will  your  consul 
Exchange  the  splendid  miseries  of  power, 
For  the  calm  comforts  of  a  happy  home. 

Enter  a  MESSENGER,  L. 

J\Ies.  All  health  to  Rome,  her  Senate,  and  her  consuls. 
Bru.  Speak  on — What  message  hast  thou  to  impart? 


44  BRUTUS.  [Acr  V 

Mes.  I  bring  intelligence  of  Sextus  Tarquin, 
Who,  on  arriving  at  a  neighbouring  village, 
Was  known,  and  by  the  people  stoned  to  death.  [Exit,  L 

Bru.  Now,  Lucretia, 

Thy  ghost  may  cease  to  wander  o'er  the  earth, 
And  rest  in  peace  ! 

Luc.  Heaven's  ways  are  just ! 

Col.  Yet  I  regret  the  villain  should  be  slain 
By  any  hand  but  mine  ! 

Enter  a  CENTURION,  R. 

Cent.  Health  to  Brutus  ! 
Shame  and  confusion  to  the  foes  of  Rome  ! 

Bru.  Now,  without  preface,  to  your  business. 

Cent.  As  I  kept  watch  at  the  Quirinal  gate, 
Ere  break  of  day,  an  armed  company 
Burst  on  the  sudden  through  the  barrier  guard, 
Pushing  their  course  for  Ardea.     Straight  alarmed, 
I  wheeled  my  cohort  round,  and  charged  'em  home  : 
Sharp  was  the  conflict  for  a  while,  and  doubtful, 
Till,  on  the  seizure  of  Tarquinia's  person, 
A  young  Patrician — 

Bru.  Ha  !  Patrician  ? 

Cent.  Such 
His  dress  bespoke  him,  though  to  me  unknown. 

Bru.  Proceed  ! — What  more  ? 

Cent.  The  lady  being  taken, 
This  youth,  the  life  and  leader  of  the  band, 
His  sword  high  waving  in  the  act  to  strike, 
Dropped  his  uplifted  weapon,  and  at  once 
Yielded  himself  my  prisoner.     Oh,  Valerius, 
What  have  I  said,  that  thus  the  consul  changes? 

Bru.  Why  do  you  pause  1     Go  on. 

Cent.  Their  leader  seized, 
The  rest  surrendered.     Him,  a  settled  gloom 
Possesses  wholly,  nor,  as  I  believe, 
Hath  a  word  passed  his  lips,  to  all  my  questions 
Still  obstinately  shut. 

Bru.  Bring  him  before  us.  [Exit  Centurion,  R. 

Vol.  Oh,  my  brave  friend,  horror  invades  my  heart. 

Bru.  Silence — be  calm. 

Vol.  I  know  thy  soul 


SCENE  I.]  BRUTUS.  45 

A  compound  of  all  excellence,  and  pray 
The  mighty  gods  to  put  thee  to  no  trial 
Beyond  a  mortal  bearing. 

Bru.  No,  they  will  not — 

Nay,  be  secure, — they  cannot.     Pr'ythee,  friend, 
Look  out,  and  if  the  worst  that  can  befall  me 
Be  verified,  turn  back,  and  give  some  sign 
What  thou  hast  seen — Thou  can'st  excuse  this  weakness, 
Being  thyself  a  father.  [  Valerius  gives  the  sign. 

Ha  ! — enough  : 

I  understand  thee  : — Since  it  must  be  so, 
Do  your  great  pleasure,  gods  !      Now,  now  it  comes  ! 

TITUS  and  TARQUINIA  are  brought  in,  R.,  guarded.      Titus 
advances,  Tarquinia  remains  in  the  back-ground. 

Tit.  My  father  ! — Give  me  present  death,  ye  powers  ! 
Cent.  What  have  1  done  ! — Art  thou  the  son  of  Brutus  ? 
Tit.  No,  Brutus  scorns  to  father  such  a  son  ! 
Oh,  venerable  judge,  wilt  thou  not  speak  ? 
Turn  not  away  ;  hither  direct  thine  eyes, 
And  look  upon  this  sorrow-stricken  form, 
Then  to  thine  own  great  heart  remit  my  plea, 
And  doom  as  nature  dictates. 

Vol.  Peace, — you'll  anger  him — 
Be  silent,  and  await  !     Oh,  suffering  mercy, 
Plead  in  a  father's  heart,  and  speak  for  nature  ! 

[Brutus  turns  away  from  his  son,  waves  Jiis  hand  to 
the  Centurion  to  remove  him  to  a  farther  distance, 
and  then  walks  forward  and  calls  Collatinus  down 
to  him,  L. 

Bru.  Come  hither,  Collatinus.     The  deep  wound 
You  suffered  in  the  loss  of  your  Lucretia, 
Demanded  more  than  fortitude  to  bear; 
I  saw  your  agony — I  felt  your  woe — 

Col.   You  more  than  felt  it — you  revenged  it,  too. 
Bru.  But,  ah  !  my  brother  consul,  your  Lucretia 
Fell  nobly,  as  a  Roman  spirit  should — 
She  fell,  a  model  of  transcendent  virtue. 

Col.  My  mind  misgives.      What  dost  thou  aim  at,  Bru 
tus  ? 

Bru.  [Almost  overpowered. J   That  youth — my   Titus — 
was  my  age's  hope — 


46  BRUTUS.  f  ACT  V 

I  loved  him  more  than  language  can  express — 
I  thought  him  born  to  dignify  the  world. 

Col.  My  heart  bleeds  for  you — He  may  yet  be  saved — 

Bru.  [Firmly.]  Consul, — for  Rome  I  live — not  for  my 
self: 

I  dare  not  trust  my  firmness  in  this  crisis, 
Warring  'gainst  everything  my  soul  holds  dear  ! 
Therefore  return  without  me  to  the  Senate — 
Haply  my  presence  might  restrain  their  justice. 
Look  that  these  traitors  meet  their  trial  straight, — 
And  then  despatch  a  messenger  to  tell  me 
How  the  wise  fathers  have  disposed  of — Go ! 

[Collatinus  goes  out,  R.,  attended,  and  as  Brutus  is  de- 
parting,  L.,  Tarquinia  rushes  forward,  R. 

Tar.  Stop, — turn  and  hear  the  daughter  of  your  king ' 
I  speak  for  justice — mercy,  thou  hast  none, 
For  him,  your  son  : — 
By  gratitude  and  love  I  drew  him  off — 
I  preserved  his  life  ! 
Who  shall  condemn  him  for  protecting  mine  ? 

Bru.  We  try  the  crime  ;  the  motive,  Heaven  will  judge, 
My  honour  he  hath  stabbed — I  pardon  that. 
He  hath  done  more — he  hath  betrayed  his  country. 
That  is  a  crime  which  every  honest  heart 
That  beats  for  freedom,  every  Roman  feels, 
And  the  full  stream  of  justice  must  have  way. 

Tar.  Because  thy  soul  was  never  swayed  by  love, 
Canst  thou  not  credit  what  his  bosom  felt  1 

Bru.  I  can  believe  that  beauty  such  as  thine 
May  urge  a  thousand  fascinating  snares 
To  lure  the  wavering  and  confound  the  weak; 
But  what  is  honoui-,  which  a  sigh  can  shake  ? 
What  is  his  viitue,  whom  a  tear  can  melt  1 
Truth — valour — justice — constancy  of  soul — 
These  are  the  attributes  of  manly  natures  : — 
Be  women  e'er  so  beauteous,  man  was  made 
For  nobler  uses  than  to  be  her  slave. 

Tar.  Hard,  unrelenting  man  !     Are  these  the  fruits 
Of  filial  piety, — and  hath  thy  son 
Wearied  the  gods  with  pray'rs,  till  they  restored 
A  mind,  and  gave  thee  reason  1     Would  to  Heaven 
They'd  given  thee  mercy,  too  !  'twould  more  become  thee 


SCEME  I.]  BRUTUS.  47 

Than  these  new  ensigns,  Brutus ;  more  than  all 
Thy  lictors,  haughty  consul, — or  thy  robes 
Dipped  in  the  blood, — oh,  horror  ! — of  a  son  ! — 

Bru.  No  more — By  all  the  gods,  I'll  hear  no  more  ! 

Tit.  A  word,  for  pity's  sake.     Before  thy  feet, 

[  To  Brutus. 

Humbled  in  soul,  thy  son  and  prisoner  kneels — 
Love  is  my  plea  :  a  father  is  my  judge ; 
Nature  my  advocate  ! — I  can  no  more  : 
If  these  will  not  appease  a  parent's  heart, 
Strike  through  them  all,  and  lodge  thy  vengeance  here  ! 

Bru.  Break  off!     I  will  not,  cannot  hear  thee  further! 
The  affliction  nature  hath  imposed  on  Brutus, 
Brutus  will  suffer  as  he  may. — Enough 
That  we  enlarge  Tarquinia.     Go,  be  free  ! 
Centurion,  give  her  conduct  out  of  Rome  ! 
Lictors,  secure  your  prisoner.     Point  your  axes. 
To  the  Senate — On  !         [Exeunt  Brutus  and  Guards,  L. 

Cent.  Come,  lady,  you  must  part. 

Tar.  Part !     Must  we  part  ? 
You  must  not  tear  him  from  me  ;  I  will  die 
Embracing  the  sad  ruin  I  have  made. 

Cent.  You've  heard  the  consul. 

Tar.  Thou  hast  heard  the  king, 
Fought  for  him  while  he  led  you  on  to  conquest. 
Thou  art  a  soldier,  and  should'st  spurn  an  office 
Which  malefactors,  though  condemned  for  murder, 
Would  rather  die  by  torture  than  perform. 

Tit.  If  thou  dost  wish 
That  I  should  'scape  the  peril  of  my  fate, 
I  conjure  thee  to  accord 

To  Brutus,  and  accept  his  promised  safeguard. 
Your  words,  your  looks,  your  beauty,  feed  his  wrath; 
In  that  fair  face  he  reads  my  guilty  love, 
And  pity  flies  his  heart.      Let  passion  pause  ; 
Leave  me  to  solitude,  to  silence  leave  me ; 
Then  nature's  gentlest  whispers  may  be  heard. 

Tar.  Say'st  thou  ?     Conduct  me  to  the  dreariest  waste 
That  ever  melancholy  madness  trod, 
And  let  my  swelling  heart  in  silence  burst ; 
Plunge  me  in  dai'kness,  shroud  this  fatal  form 
In  everlasting  night,  I  am  content  ! 


48  BRUTUS. 


[ACT  V. 


Lo  !   I  obey  !      This  is  the  test  of  love  : 
.This  is  the  sacrifice  : — I  part  to  save  thee  ! 

[Officers  advance. 

Tit.  See,  1  am  warned.     Farewell,  my  life's   last  joy! 
When  my  eyes  lose  thy  image,  they  may  look 
On  death  without  dismay.     To  those  blessed  powers 
Who  gave  thee  every  virtue,  every  grace 
That  can  ensure  perfection,  I  commit  thee. 

[  They  embrace,  and  are  torn  asunder.  Titus  is  car 
ried  off  by  the  Lictors,  L.,  and  Tarquinia  faints 
and  is  borne  off  by  the  Centurion  and  Guards,  R. 

SCENE  II. — Rome. — An  Apartment  in  the  House  of  Brutus 
Enter  BRUTUS,  R. 

Bru.  [Alone.]   Like  a  lost,  guilty  wretch,  I  look  around 
And  start  at  every  footstep,  lest  it  bring 
The  fatal  news  of  my  poor  son's  conviction  ! — 
Oh,  Rome,  thou  little  know'st — No  more — It  comes. 

Enter  VALERIUS,  L. 

Vol.  My  friend,  the  Senate  have  to  thee  transferred 
The  right  of  judgment  on  thy  son's  offence. 

Bru.  To  me  ! 

Vol.  To  thee  alone. 

Bru.  What  of  the  rest  ? 

Val.  Their  sentence  is  already  passed. 
E'en  now,  perhaps,  the  lictor's  dreaded  hand 
Cuts  off  their  forfeit  lives. 

Bru.  Say'st  thou,  that  the  Senate  have  to  me  referred 
The  fate  of  Titus  1 

Val.  Such  is  their  sovereign  will. 
They  think  you  merit  this  distinguished  honour. 
A  father's  grief  deserves  to  be  revered  : 
Rome  will  approve  whatever  you  decree. 

Bru.  And  is  his  guilt  established  beyond  doubt  ? 

Val.  Too  clearly. 

Bru.  [  With  a  burst  of  tears.]  Oh,  ye  gods  !  ye  gods  J 
[  Collecting  himself.]  Valerius  ! 

Val.  What  would'st  thou,  noble  Roman  ? 

Bru.  'Tis  said  thou  hast  pulled  down  thine  house,  Va 

lerius, 
The  stately  pile  that  with  such  cost  was  reared. 


BRUTUS.  49 

Val.  I  have ;  but  what  doth  Brutus  then  infer  ? 

Bru.  It  was  a  goodly  structure  :  I  remember 
How  fondly  you  surveyed  its  rising  grandeur. — 
With  what  a — fatherly — delight  you  summoned 
Each  grace  and  ornament,  that  might  enrich 
The — child — of  your  creation, — till  it  swelled 
To  an  imperial  size,  and  overpeered 
The  petty  citizens,  that  humbly  dwelt 
[Tnder  its  lofty  walls,  in  huts  and  hovels, 
Like  emmets  at  the  foot  of  tow'ring  jEtna: 
Then,  noble  Roman,  then  with  patriot  zeal, 
Dear  as  it  was,  and  valued,  you  condemned 
A.nd  levelled  the  proud  pile ;  and,  in  return, 
Were  by  your  grateful  countrymen  sirnamed, 
A.nd  shall  to  all  posterity  descend, — 
Poplicola. 

Val.  Yes,  Brutus,  I  conceive 
The  awful  aim  and  drift  of  thy  discourse — 
But  1  conjure  thee,  pause  !      Thou  art  a  father. 

Bru.  I  am  a  Roman  consul ! — What,  my  friend, 
Shall  no  one  but  Valerius  love  his  country 
Dearer  than  house,  or  property,  or  children  ? 
Now,  follow  me ; — and,  in  the  face  of  Heaven, 
['11  mount  the  judgment-seat :  there,  see  if  Brutus 
Feel  not  for  Rome  as  warmly  as  Poplicola.     [Exeunt,  B 

SCENE  III. — Exterior  of  the  Temple  of  Mars. — Senators, 
Citizens,  COLLATINUS,  and  LUCRETIUS,  discovered.  At 
L.  of  Stage,  a  Tribunal,  with  a  Consular  Chair  vpon 

it. 

BRUTUS  enters,  R.,  followed  by  VALERIUS — he.  bows  as  he 
passes,  and  ascends  the  Tribunal. 

Bru.  Romans,  the  blood  which  hath  been  shed  this  day 
Hath  been  shed  wisely.     Traitors,  who  conspire 
,'Vgainst  mature  societies,  may  urge 
Their  acts  as  bold  and  daring ;  and  though  villains, 
Yet  they  are  manly  villains — But  to  stab 
The  cradled  innocent,  as  these  have  done, — 
To  strike  their  country  in  the  mother-pangs 
Of  struggling  child-birth,  and  direct  the  dagget 
To  freedom's  infant  throat, — is  a  deed  so  black, 


50  KRt/rus. 


[ACT  v 


That  my  foiled  tongue  refuses  it  a  name.  [.4  pause. 

There  is  one  criminal  still  left  for  judgment — 
Let  him  approach. 

TITUS  is  brought  in  l>y  the  LICTORS,  R.,  with  their  axes 
turned  edgeways  towards  him. 

Pris — on — er — [  The  voice  of  Brutus  falters,  and  is  chok 

ed,  and  he  exclaims,  with  violent  emotion. 
Romans,  forgive  this  agony  of  grief — 
My  heart  is  bursting — Nature  must  have  way — 
I  will  perform  all  that  a  Roman  should — 
I  cannot  feel  less  than  a  father  ought  ! 

[lie  becomes  more  calm.     Gives  a  signal  to  the  lActors 
to  fall  back,  and  advances  from  the  Judgment-Scat 
to  the  front  of  the  Stage,  on  a  line  with  his  son. 
Well,  Titus,  speak — how  is  it  with  thee  now  1 
Tell  me,  my  son,  art  thou  prepared  to  die  1 

Tit.  Father,  I  call  the  powers  of  heaven  to  witness 
Titus  dares  die,  if  so  you  have  decreed. 
The  gods  will  have  it  so  1 

Bru.   They  will,  my  Titus  : 
Nor  heav'n,  nor  earth,  can  have  it  otherwise. 
It  seems  as  if  thy  fate  were  pre-ordained 
To  fix  the  reeling  spirits  of  the  people, 
And  settle  the  loose  liberty  of  Rome. 
'Tis  fixed; — oh,  therefore,  let  not  fancy  cheat  thee: 
So  fixed  thy  death,  that  'tis  not  in  the  power 
Of  mortal  man  to  save  thee  from  the  axe. 

Tit.  The  axe  ! — Oh,  heaven  !  —Then  must  I  fall  so 

basely  ? 
What,  shall  I  peiish  like  a  common  felon? 

Bru.  How  else  do  traitors  suffer? — Nay,  Titus, more — 
I  must  myself  ascend  yon  sad  tribunal — 
And  there  behold  thee  meet  this  shame  of  death, 
With  all  thy  hopes,  and  all  thy  youth  upon  thee. — 
See  thy  head  taken  by  the  common  axe, — 
All, — if  the  gods  can  hold  me  to  my  purpose, — 
Without  one  groan,  without  one  pitying  tear. 

[  Turns  up,  as  if  in  agony, 

Tit.  Die  like  a  felon  ? — Ha  !   a  common  felon  ! — 
But  1  deserve  it  all : — yet  here  I  fail : — 
Thib  ignominy  quite  unmans  me  ! 


SCENE  1.]  BRUTUS.  5j 

Oh,  Brutus,  Brutus  !      Must  I  call  you  fatliei,       [Kneels. 

Yet  have  no  token  of  your  tenderness, 

No  sign  of  mercy?     Not  even  leave  to  fall 

As  noble  Romans  fall,  by  my  own  sword  ? 

Father,  why  should  you  make  my  heart  suspect 

That  all  your  late  compassion  was  dissembled? 

How  can  I  think  that  you  did  ever  love  me  ? 

Bru.   Think  that  I  love  thee  by  my  present  passion, 
By  these  unmanly  tears,  these  earthquakes  here, 
These  sighs  that  strain  the  very  strings  of  life, — 
Let  these  convince  you  that  no  other  cause 
Could  force  a  father  thus  to  wrong  his  nature. 

Tit.  Oh,  hold,  them  violated  majesty  :  [Rises. 

I  now  submit  with  calmness  to  my  fate. 
Come  forth,  ye  executioners  of  justice — 
Come,  take  my  life, — and  give  it  to  my  countiy  5 

Bru.  Embrace  thy  wretched  father.     May  the  gotfs 
Arm  thee  with  patience  in  this  awful  hour. 
The  sovereign  magistrate  of  injured  Rome 
Condemns 

A  crime,  thy  father's  bleeding  heart  forgives. 
Go — meet  thy  death  with  a  more  manly  courage 
Than  grief  now  suffers  me  to  show  in  parting ; 
And,  while  she  punishes,  let  Rome  admire  thee.  i 
Farewell !      Eternally  farewell ! — 
Tit.  Oh,  Brutus  !     Oh,  my  father  ! — 
Bru.  What  would'st  thou  say,  my  son? 
Tit.  Wilt  thou  forgive  me  ? 

When  I  shall  be  no  more,  forget  not  my  Tarqtiinia. 
Bru.   Leave  her  to  my  care. 
Tit.  Farewell,  forever ! 

Bru.  Forever  !  [Re-ascends  the  Pribumu 

Lictors,  attend  ! — conduct  your  pris'ner  forth  ! 
Val.   \  Rapidly  and  anxiously.}   Whither? 

[All  the  characters  bend  forward  in  great  anxiety. 
Bru.  To  death  ! — [All  start.]  When  you  do  reach  the 

spot, 

My  hand  shall  wave  your  signal  for  the  act, 
Then  let  the  trumpet's  sound  proclaim  it  done  ! 

[  Titus  is  conducted  out  by  the  Lictors,  R. — A  dead 
march, — which  gradually  dies  away  as  it  becomes 
•more  distant.  Brutus  remains  seated  in  a  melan 
choly  posture  on  the  Tribunal. 


52  BKUTUS.  [Ac-T  V 

Pon-  youth  !      Thy  pilgrimage  is  at  an  end  ! 
A  IV w  sad  steps  have  brought  thec  to  the  brink 
Of  that  tremendous  precipice,  whose  depth 
No  thought  of  man  can  fathom.     Justice  now 
Demands  her  victim  !      A  little  moment, 
And  I  am  childless. — One  effort,  and  'tis  past ! — 

[He  rises  and  waves  his  hand,  convulsed  with  agitation, 
then  drops  in  his  seat,  and  shrouds  his  face  with  his 
toga.      Three  sounds  of  the   trumpet  are  heard  in 
stantly. — All  the  characters  assume  attitudes  of  deep 
misery. — Brutus  starts  up   wildly,   descends   to  the 
front  in  extreme  agitation,  looks  out  on   the  side  by 
which  Titus  departed,  for  an  instant,  then,  with  an 
hysterical  burst,  exclaims, 
Justice  is  satisfied,  and  Rome  is  free  ! 

[Brutus  falls. —  The  characters  group  around,  him. 


THE    END. 


NOTE  . 

The  following  Scene  in  the  Third  Act  was  omitted  after 
the  jirst  representation,  in  compliance  with  the,  wishes 
of  many  who  thought  it  injurious  to  the  general  effect, 
of  the  Play.  As,  however,  there  was  some  difference  of 
opinion  upon  this  point,  the  Scene  is  here  inserted  as  it 
originally  stood.  LUCRETIA  is  supposed  to  be  surround 
ed  by  her  relations, — COLLATINUS  and,  LUCRETIUS  by 
her  side, — her  hair  dishevelled,  wild  in  her  attire,  and 
all  the  other  characters  in  attitudes  of  deep  grief. 

Luc.  Bear  witness,  then,  Lucretia's  mind  is  guiltless— 
Yet  never  can  Lucretia  srnile  again  ! 
Lost  to  herself,  her  husband,  and  her  child, 
Lost  to  the  world,  her  country,  and  her  friends, 
The  arms  of  love  can  pillow  her  no  more, 
And  the  sweet  smile  of  her  dear  innocent  babe 
Would  but  awaken  her  to  deeper  anguish  ! 
And  shall  she  live,  bereft  of  all  life's  treasures, 
Th  e  spectre  of  the  past  forever  rising 


SCEN-E  I.]  BRUTUS.  53 

To  fright  her  into  madness  ?     Think  not,  countrymen, 
Indignant  virtue  can  survive  pollution  ! 
By  her  own  hand  a  Roman  wife  can  fall.       [Stabs  herself. 
'Tis  to  the  heart  !      Tarquin,  the  blow  was  thine  !   [Falls. 

Col.  Beloved,  unhappy  wife  !      What  hast  thou  done? 

Luc.  A  deed  of  glory.     Now,  my  husband,  now — 
With  transport  can  I  press  thee  to  my  bosom. 
Father  and  kinsmen,  ye  can  own  me  now  ! 
My  pure  soul  springs  from  its  detested  prison  ! 
Virtue  exults  !      The  gods  applaud  my  daring  ! 
And  to  our  dear,  loved  babe,  1  can  bequeath 
A  mothei-'s  noblest  gift — a  spotless  name  !  [Dies. 

Luc.  Staff  of  my  age  !     Gone,  gone,  foi'ever  gone  ! 
A  wretched  father's  last  and  only  joy  ! 
Come,  death,  strike  here  !      Your  shaft  were    welcome 

now  ! 
Snatch  me  from  earth  to  my  poor,  lost,  loved  child  ! 

Col.  My  wife  !  my  wife  !      Dear,  dear,  wronged,  mur 
dered  wife  ! 

Let  me  be  rooted  here  in  endless  sorrow — 
Who,  who  shall  dare  to  mourn  her  loss  like  me  ? 

Enter  BRUTUS,  L. 
Bru.  I  dare, — and  so  dare  every  honest  Roman. 

The  Scene  then  proceeds  as  printed  in  the  preceding  pages. 


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